


Never have I ever

by Kendrene



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alpha Kara Danvers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Butch Kara Danvers, Crushes, F/F, Falling In Love, First Orgasm, Friends With Benefits, Kara Danvers Needs a Hug, Kara has a complicated relationship with sex, Lena helps her out, Non-Binary Kara Danvers, Omega Lena Luthor, Past Kara Danvers/Mon-El
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26748688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrene/pseuds/Kendrene
Summary: “What was the question again?”“Never have I ever had an orgasm.” Alex rolls her eyes a bit. “Just drink up Kara, it’s not that hard.”“Uhm.” Kara picks up her shot glass. It’s cool against her hand, and glistening with condensation. “Well, uh… I… I can’t do that.” She winces slightly as she says it, but what’s the point of the game if she lies? She puts the shot glass down. “You know. Because I never—”ORA/B/O College AU in which Kara is an alpha with a complicated relationship with her status and sex, and Lena offers to enter a friends with benefits relationship with her to help her self-exploration. Because there's absolutely no chance they'll fall in love in the process.
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Kelly Olsen, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 237
Kudos: 2137





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do I ever know what I'm doing? NO! Does that ever stop me? NO! 
> 
> As a non-binary person, I've been playing with the idea of a non-binary alpha for a while. How they'd discover it? What does it entail? How does the story structure change? 
> 
> Here's the result.
> 
> \- Dren

“Never have I ever had an orgasm,” Alex announces proudly while filling everyone’s shot glasses with strawberry vodka. 

They’ve reached the final stages of Game Night, in which the tabletop entertainment of choice has been put aside in favor of drinking and small talk. Kara doesn’t know who’d suggested they regress back to high school — they’re in college now, that’s supposed to make them act like  _ adults  _ — but she’s sitting next to Lena tonight, which causes her to care about a relatively small number of things. When her brain can function past thinking how warm Lena’s thigh brushing her feels, that is. How nice it is when Lena laughs and bumps her shoulder against hers like a longtime conspirator. 

As a result, Alex’s words, while causing a chorus of groans from around the table, don’t really register with her. 

“Oh,  _ come on, _ Danvers!” Sam is the first to reach out for a shot glass. “Just say you want an excuse to get shitfaced and go.” 

“Well  _ I _ don’t have work tomorrow,” Alex counters, grimacing as the vodka burns her throat. “Besides, you guys already asked all of the good stuff.” 

“Untrue.” Kelly sniffs at her drink before closing her eyes and gulping it down with a face that says she would really rather not. “That was kind of lame, babe. Oh, and if you buy strawberry vodka for Game Night ever again, I’m dumping you.” 

Eventually, Kara’s shot glass is the only one untouched. 

“Earth to Kara,” Alex grins. “Earth to Kara, please respond.” 

“Uh? What?” It takes her a few tries, but she manages to blink the room back into focus. “Oh, right. Sorry, got distracted.” 

It’s Lena’s fault, really. She’s been drifting closer and closer throughout the evening, and now their bodies are in contact from knee to shoulder. That and her perfume — something fresh and a bit zesty, her alluring omega scent just peeking through underneath — make it hard to concentrate. “What was the question again?” 

“Never have I ever had an orgasm.” Alex rolls her eyes a bit. “Just drink up Kara, it’s not that hard.” 

“Uhm.” Kara picks up her shot glass. It’s cool against her hand, and glistening with condensation. “Well, uh… I… I can’t do that.” She winces slightly as she says it, but what’s the point of the game if she lies? She puts the shot glass down. “You know. Because I never—” 

“Orgasmed?” Alex’s eyes seem ready to pop out of her head and roll across the table. “C’mon, you can’t be serious! It’s not like you never had sex!” 

Kara loves her sister. She loves Alex a lot, even if technically speaking, they don’t share a bond of blood. Even though Alex turned her life into a nightmare when Kara was adopted by the Danvers, refusing to remotely acknowledge she existed — as someone with thoughts and fears and feelings — for the first couple of months. 

She loves her sister more than she can put into coherent thought, but sometimes it happens that she hates her just as much. Like when Alex made it into Midvale High’s lacrosse varsity team without so much as breaking a sweat, while Kara had to endure being teased for playing soccer. 

Tonight is one of those times. 

Squeezing her eyes shut, Kara prays the floor will open under her and swallow her whole.

“Alex.” Lena’s tone is one of warning, and she seems the only one who noticed how Kara’s back has stiffened even though she’s doing her best to hide it. Kara’s fingers are digging into Alex’s couch, the old leather splitting apart under her blunt nails. She thrusts her fingers into one such opening, pushing and pulling at the fibre stuffing. All of a sudden, Lena’s hand is covering her own. Stilling it. A wave of soothing pheromones rolls off of her, subtle enough only Kara picks up on them. She suspects that is the intent, what with the precise, measured way Lena’s always wielding the changes in her scent. 

Her jaw unclenches, and she gives Lena’s hand a quick squeeze as a  _ thank you _ . 

But then, of course, Alex has to run her stupid mouth some more.

“I mean,  _ come on _ .” The words are slurred, her voice pasty with too much booze. Kara tries to justify her lack of tact that way, but can’t. “Mike wasn’t my favorite person, but for sure—” 

_ Mike _ . She blinks a few times, but the room has begun to spin around her and won’t stop. Perhaps, if she can’t control herself, she’s the one who had too much to drink.

“ _ Alex _ .” Lena’s glaring now, green eyes close to  _ blazing _ . “Maybe we should drop it. Just move on to the next round.”

“Or switch games altogether,” Nia pipes up, having sensed the shift in mood. Kara stares into her shot glass. She’d gulp the vodka down if the sticky smell of strawberry didn’t remind her of the cough syrup Eliza used to give her whenever she got sick. “This is kinda silly anyhow.” 

“I just can’t believe it.” Kelly nudges Alex in the ribs, but that has no effect. “He was  _ that _ bad, uh?”

“He was a bit inattentive, maybe.” Kara should tell Alex to stop. She doesn’t know why she feels so embarrassed — it’s not like she’s a  _ virgin _ . She just… she can’t come. Never has. With the way her luck tends to run, probably never will. No big deal. 

Except it is. 

Thankfully the boys are all downstairs, fawning over the fifth-hand motorcycle Winn just bought. Kara desperately wishes she were there, too, talking about engines and top speeds, and  _ have you any idea how much gas that archeological find guzzles down per mile, Winn? _

She squirms. “Like… He was a bit quick, I guess.” Five minutes tops, give or take. “It’s not a big deal.” 

“Wow, okay,” Alex commiserates. “A trip to Subway would have at least guaranteed you the six inches.” She snorts a bit at her own joke, and Kara retreats further into the pillows. 

“Okay, Alex. Cut that out. This isn’t funny anymore.” Lena looks like she’s about ready to go for her sister’s throat. 

“Okay, so not with Mike, but for real, Kara—” 

Before Kara has a chance to say something, Lena’s hand moves from her fingers to her thigh, squeezing gently, and —  _ Lena’s hand is on her thigh, squeezing gently, holy shit _ .

The alpha inside her chest perks up with interest. Something else between her legs stirs, too, and Kara glares down, biting the inside of her cheek until she can taste blood. All she needs to fuck her night to hell completely is to pop a useless semi in front of the others. 

Specifically in front of  _ Lena _ . 

But Lena’s not paying attention to Kara’s riotous urges right about now. She’s staring Alex down, and Kara has a feeling that if the coffee table wasn’t in the way, Lena would be physically shielding her. It’s strange to see an omega square up to an alpha. Not unheard of, but weird. Okay, maybe it turns her on a little; enough that she has to tug the hem of her hoodie down to try and disguise the party it starts up in her nether regions. Alex seems too drunk to realize she’s being openly challenged, but Kelly’s shooting both Kara and Lena an apologetic look, and the unhappy scent drifting to Kara’s nose — something smoky in a burnt, unpleasant way — suggests she and Alex are going to have words once her sister sobers up enough to act like something more than a Neanderthal. 

Not the sexy fun kind, either. 

As the realization hits — that Lena is truly being protective of her, and it’s not just an alcohol-fuelled fantasy of hers — Kara’s heart does quite the funky little number. It involves skipping several beats, and trying to drop out of her body and through the floor at her feet. Down to street level. Although, considering the rolodex of thoughts currently unrolling in her mind, gutter-level is a more accurate descriptor. 

Alex’s brain chooses that moment to reboot, and her sister glares across the coffee table, lips twitching in the beginning of a snarl. Lena raises an eyebrow, appearing unimpressed and bored at once, and it’s suddenly clear to Kara that unless she does something like laugh it off and pretend everything’s okay, this conversation, as awkward as it is, has the potential to devolve into a very ugly scene.

“I said it’s no big deal.” She refills the glasses for the next round. “It’s not like I ever did, with him or anyone else.” 

“ _ WHAT _ ?”

“You heard me, Alex.” Kara doesn’t bother raising her eyes. Her sister’s incredulous gaze has the combined weight of the entire solar system. She can’t bear to see the pity on her face. Or worse still, on Lena’s. “When I said I couldn’t drink, I meant I never,  _ ever  _ orgasmed. Not once in my life. Happy?” 

She slams the empty vodka bottle down and stands, thrusting both of her hands in the big pouch at the front of her hoodie to hide how bad they’re shaking. “I’m going to go get more snacks.” 

Mike had just been so… unenthusiastic about pleasuring her, but Kara never really felt comfortable pushing the issue. He’d felt close — being raised by foster parents like she had meant he understood some stuff better than most — and Kara had been afraid that if she complained too hard, or asked too much, he’d simply walk away. When she’d admitted to him that he didn’t make her orgasm, he’d looked hurt. Upset, too. After that, she’d pretended to enjoy herself. The fact she never  _ finished  _ had been laughably easy to hide since he mostly just rolled over and fell asleep once  _ he _ was done. Plus, he’d always refused to let Kara peg him — not that she’d been dying to, but still. 

_ Perhaps Lena will let you try that if you ask her.  _ The thought strikes her as sudden as lightning forking across a clear sky, and Kara gasps, dropping an open bag of chips all over the floor. 

“Shit.” She kneels down in the dark kitchen, chips crunching under her knees, feeling like she may burst into tears, or puke, or both. “Fuck. Shit. Shit.  _ Fuck _ .”

“Hey,” Lena calls to her from the doorway. What light filters in from the small living room outlines her in gold, but Kara can’t see her face. Kara can’t even see her eyes, but knows they’re trained on her. Lena’s gaze is heat on her skin, a prickling sensation. It tickles, not at all unpleasant.

“Hey,” she calls back, and cringes at how tear-choked she sounds.

“Your sister’s really something when she’s drunk, uh?” Lena takes a few tentative steps forward, somehow avoiding the mess Kara made, then pauses and makes a disgusted noise deep in her throat. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” 

She goes quiet, and in the lull, Kara can hear bits of conversation drift in from the living room. The apartment she and Alex share just off the campus grounds is big enough for two, but downright cramped with all of them inside it, and the walls are cardboard-thin. She can hear Kelly’s furious dressing down of Alex now, no matter that her voice is pitched so low it barely qualifies as a whisper. Kara should be glad the others seem to be taking her side, but instead, it makes her feel worse. She tunes everyone but Lena out. 

“She can be a total jerk.” Kara ends the statement with a short, hard laugh that grates her throat like broken glass. “It’s okay for you to say that, ‘cause it’s true.” 

If she were another type of alpha, the  _ normal  _ type, she would not have needed Lena to defend her. Kara appreciates the gesture, but can’t stop shame from heating up her cheeks. It flows from her face to the rest of her in a wave that sticks her shirt to her back, and Kara’s glad the lights are off. 

But, even though Lena can’t see her, she must have noticed the hurt coloring her scent, because she edges closer and kneels down next to her. 

“So, what are we doing on the floor, anyhow?” 

Kara expected more commiseration, had braced for it. The change in topic makes her shoulders jerk up in surprise, then her entire spine collapses in relief. “We’re picking up the chips I dropped like an idiot. But you don’t have to help,” she hurries to add, when Lena starts to scoop crumbs up alongside her. 

“I don’t mind.” Lena’s scent curls in her nose curiously, as though she’s gauging her reaction. When Kara simply tugs the empty bag of chips closer so that they can gather everything up efficiently before throwing it out, the pheromones between them change again, wrap around Kara’s brain like a favorite blanket. 

“I like spending time with you, anyway.” The tone is casual, but on Kara, the words have the effect of an electrical discharge. She freezes for a second, her brain replaying the scene in a loop. Alex’s wounding words, the embarrassment reddening her face. Lena holding her hand, pushing into her personal space like a calming force. 

As the import of the statement sinks into her fully, the world which has been put on hold around them pours back into her ears with startling vehemence. Kara loses her balance and falls backwards, head striking the wooden cabinet under the sink, hands bruising on the tile in an effort to keep upright. 

“Oh my God, Kara, are you okay?” It doesn’t seem to matter that the only light is the blue glow of the microwave digital display — Lena’s hand finds hers without a moment’s hesitation. 

“F-fine,” Kara stammers, too hung up on the tender way Lena’s other hand is cupping the back of her head, fingers probing at her scalp to assess the damage. “ _ Ow _ .” 

“Ow, indeed.” Lena pulls her hand away and Kara immediately misses its warmth. Her heart is acting up again. Dropping a beat here, speeding up too much there. “You should put some ice on that before you go to sleep. It’s gonna swell.” 

Awesome. She grits her teeth against the throb that’s starting up at the base of her skull. First she had to go and out herself as sexually incompetent, and now Lena’s going to think she’s a major klutz. 

Which she is, but that isn’t the point. The point is that usually, when pretty omegas aren’t fussing over her while smelling all concerned, Kara can conceal it a lot better. 

“You should stop being so hard on yourself,” Lena says softly, and as the word  _ hard  _ drops from her lips, nearly all breath, Kara’s dick decides that  _ hey, _ it’d be just the thing to salute her at full mast. 

Thank fuck the kitchen’s mostly dark. 

Still, the friction against the cotton of her boxers is enough to make her hips buck, and the air between them becomes motionless, charged and weighty with the sort of buzzing electricity that precedes a thunderstorm. 

“We should go back to the others.” Kara’s stomach is already twisting at the thought of heading back into the living room, but she pushes the discomfort down, as out of mind as it will go. 

Being alone with Lena in the dark is opening her mind up to possibilities she never even entertained, filling her head with thoughts she shouldn’t be having about a friend. 

“You like spending time with me? Really?”

She can’t stop the question from slipping out. Kara knows it’s a stupid one to ask the moment the words form in her mind, but does it anyway. Feels as if she’s driving a car straight into the nearest wall, but it’s her brain that’s lacking brakes. 

Likely, she lacks brains entirely. 

“Kara,” Lena’s tone is patient, but amused enough to suggest she might be in the process of rolling her eyes. “We hang out almost every day. I thought it was obvious I like spending time with you.” 

Well, it might have been to  _ her _ . 

Brushing stray chips from the front of her hoodie, Kara climbs unsteadily to her feet, a hand curled around the edge of the sink for support. Her head is splitting open now, her mood toeing the line into morose, and the inconclusive boner that sprung up between her legs — that pounds just that much harder when Lena’s hand comes to rest on her forearm — is making matters worse. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you, Kara.” Lena’s voice is strangely submissive, and Kara’s sure she’s never heard her sound so soft. Pliant. They are standing next to one another, and she can almost  _ taste  _ Lena, thick like liquor, on the back of her tongue.

“S’okay I’m just—” Kara angles her body away, relaxes her posture into something that won’t scream  _ I’m having impure thoughts about you.  _

She frowns down at her dick, but undaunted, it just tents her pants a little further. She shouldn’t be surprised — it never does what she wants it to.

“I don’t want to go back to the others yet,” she pushes out after a loud exhale, one hand stuffed in her pocket in a stealthy, but valiant effort to push her cock  _ down _ . “I can’t—” Just a few more minutes alone with Lena in the dark, where she can acknowledge that yes,  _ fine _ , she has a crush maybe, but leave the realization she never could satisfy Lena the way an alpha should an omega for when they step back into the light.

“It’s alright.” Lena leans against her shoulder, pervasive lavender making Kara’s head swim a different, entirely pleasing way. “Whenever you’re ready,” she adds, linking arms with her, and Kara tries, tries,  _ tries _ to not read between the lines of that.

Fails.

***

Sam, Winn, and James have already left. Alex is passed out on the couch, and snoring loud enough that Kara’s sure she’ll be able to hear her all the way into her bedroom. Both Lena and Kelly offer to stay behind and help with cleanup, but Kara declines. She wants –  _ craves _ – a bit of loneliness. Just her and the night pressing against the windows, Alex’s snoring like ambience music in the background. 

Perhaps she’s being a bit too curt. She can hear it in her voice when she says,  _ no, but thank you anyway _ , a cutting edge to every word.

Kelly ducks her head in understanding, throwing a last narrow-eyed look to her girlfriend before she wishes her a hushed goodnight and heads down to get her car. 

Lena, however, lingers in the doorway, looking like she doesn’t really want to leave. Looking like she’s fighting with whatever thoughts are crowding behind her impossibly green eyes, and losing badly.

“Grab lunch tomorrow?” Kara asks, flinching at her own voice. The words come out too loud too quickly, filling a silence she’d felt was going to stretch between them beyond a point of no return. “My treat,” she adds shyly, lowering her head a little.

A shadow lifts from Lena’s face then, and she nods quickly, stepping back into the apartment to wrap Kara in a hug before she darts down the stairs. 

The last glimpse Kara has of her is a dark-haired form crossing the road, the orange glow of a lone streetlamp lengthening her shadow. 

It’s impossible for Lena to feel the weight of Kara’s gaze that far away, but  _ something _ compels her to stop dead in the middle of the street. She pauses, turns, head tilted up and eyes precisely focused so that they meet hers. Even though Kara’s nigh invisible hidden behind the half-drawn curtain, all lights inside the living room dimmed low. 

She jerks back, letting the curtain flutter shut completely, heart thumping in her throat as if she’s just been caught doing something horrible, like stealing. A tingle of electricity starts at her fingertips, travels through her from scalp to curling toes. 

It’s as though they are connected by a powerline neither of them can see, that joins them no matter how far away from one another they get, unfelt to anyone but them. 

Kara wants to sink into that inexplicable  _ closeness  _ — she can’t find a better word to define what's coursing through her— to let it overwhelm her. She stands by the window, not moving, barely breathing, convinced that if she thinks even a tad too loud, this precious sensation will be gone and not return again. But then a whiff of dust disturbed by her shifting the curtain enters her nose, making her sneeze. 

When she can blink the tears away, after she’s gathered herself enough to take another look, Lena is gone. So is whatever she thought she’d felt.

By the time Kara finally drags herself to bed, it’s disgustingly late. 

She doesn’t even have the courage to check her phone for the exact time – she just knows there’s nowhere near enough hours left till dawn. And she’s got an eight am class. 

(in hindsight, she should’ve known that wouldn’t be a good idea when she signed up for it)

With a groan, Kara shucks off most of her clothes and tosses them to the four corners of the room without caring where they land. 

Then, exhaustion pulling at her limbs, she falls down onto the bed, face buried in what feels like her discarded hoodie. She’s too tired to check, and anyhow, whatever it is it’s warm. Soft against her cheek, and that’s what matters. 

At least her stupid dick is tired too, she’s got the time to think before sleeps rises up to claim her. 

***

Kara sleeps right through her three alarms, and when she wakes, a blade of sunlight falling squarely across her face, it’s two hours too late to make it to her early morning class. Not too late that she's missed her lunch with Lena, thankfully, although Kara discovers, as soon as she regains something resembling a thought process, that she has a  _ very  _ urgent problem to take care of before she can even  _ think  _ of leaving the house.

The  _ issue  _ is currently trapped between the inside of her boxers and the bed, and when her hips involuntarily rut into the mattress, being  _ between a rock and a hard place  _ acquires unprecedented meaning in her mind. 

With a groan, Kara flops onto her back, her hand flying to her erection before she realizes what she’s doing. 

Since she can never seem to come, jerking off has lost all the appeal it may have held back when she was a baby-faced alpha asking timid questions to her older, more experienced sister. Those memories are tinged in fond embarrassment, the novelty of her hormonal storms becoming a burden as she realized she was not like anybody else. Flawed. Broken, perhaps past any attempt at repair. 

Being the outlier in a society ruled by the certainties of pheromones and biology as though they are divine laws set into stone was hell. 

_ You’re not flawed _ . Eliza had done her best to reassure her after she’d found out Kara cried herself to sleep most nights.  _ Coming to terms with yourself is just taking a little longer, that’s all. _

That had been of no consolation to her after she’d dumped Mike and he’d threatened to tell the entire fucking school about it. 

Kara’s done her fair share of exploration; alone at first, and then with him.

Enough to know what she likes and what she doesn’t. If there’s one good thing her only significant relationship has left her with, it’s a crystalline knowledge of the latter.

And yeah, sometimes when she gets hard and has the time, she still does her best to rub one out, but it’s out of apathy more than anything else. An attempt to convince her body it should give up on something she has no use for. 

Today feels different, however. There’s a new kind of warmth simmering deep down in her bones. A fire heating up her belly that Kara can’t ignore, nor snuff out.

It may be tied to the fact that she's slept with her nose buried in her hoodie for the entire night — the fabric smells of Lena like she wore it. 

She can’t help it then but grab for the hoodie and pull it to her nose even as she tugs her boxers down. She can’t stop her chest from expanding, inhaling Lena's scent until she’s drunk on it. 

She shouldn’t do this, one doesn’t jack off while thinking of a friend, and she  _ does _ put up her best fight, stopping, digging her nails into her thigh when it’s the thought of Lena taking her quite literally in hand that fills her mind instead of the patchwork of fictional women she resorts to when trying to jerk off. 

She goes as far as to force herself to think of Mike; his distracted touch, his going through the motions because it was expected for him to reciprocate, not from really wanting to. It still hurts to remember, even if it’s been years, but it seems her hard-on is impervious to the sadness squeezing a fist around her throat.

Nothing works. Each time, Mike morphs into a nameless stranger, which then becomes Lena the moment Kara’s mind wanders.

Her cock bobs proudly between her legs, mocking her efforts, and Kara nearly snarls at it — a ripping noise that shifts into a snort halfway through. 

Like that could make a difference. 

Her imagination, or perhaps her alpha, is set on Lena. 

If it were still night, Kara could pretend it’s all a dream. One of those fantasies you have after one too many drinks. When life is like a wishing well, and everything is possible. 

But with daylight now illuminating every corner of her bedroom, there’s no denying her body’s reaction, and so she gives in with a defeated sigh, reaching for the bottle of lubricant she keeps on her bed stand for appearance’s sake. 

Pre-cum glistens at the tip, so much of it Kara doubts the lube is necessary. She squeezes a big glob onto her hand anyway — her skin feels paper-thin with the heat coming from within, and the lubricant that drips onto her dick from her closed fist helps to cool her down. 

Her fingers skim along her shaft from base to tip, as tentative and feather-like as many other times before, but the first touch has Kara flailing, inches from tumbling off the bed. 

“ _ Damn _ .” She has to blink rapidly at a small crack on the ceiling before the room stops spinning, and take several deep breaths on top of that to bring the shaking under control. “What the fuck was  _ that _ ?” 

It was like being tazed, without the pain. Her nerves still tingle, her mind so overwhelmed it’s close to shutting itself down. Her alpha has regressed to caveman state, and calls for more. The basest of her instincts run through her, guiding her actions.

There’s shame, somewhere in the back of her mind, but the voice of need is stronger, and Kara’s last resistance is quickly overcome. She can think of Lena  _ just this once _ . It’s not like she’s going to go and act on it and ruin their friendship. So what if she’s got a little crush? Plenty of people crush on their friends. And anyway, Lena will never  _ know _ . 

But Kara will, is the thing. Everytime she sees Lena or hangs out with her, Kara will remember she  _ masturbated  _ while thinking about fucking her. 

Enslaved by primal urges, her hand moves, falls back between her legs, and one pump of her fist later, that concern becomes a future-Kara problem.

Present-Kara crumbles, her eyes slipping shut. She doesn’t need to keep them open to see Lena kneeling next to her on the bed, tongue flickering across the gushing head — pink and wet and  _ eager _ . Lena on all fours, begging to be fucked, losing all coherence when Kara gives it to her hard, snarling  _ take it, take it, take it _ against the perfect line of her shoulder blade. And again, Lena on her back with Kara’s hand around her throat, whimpering as the knot stretches her cunt wide. Telling her to just push it in, to please, oh my God make it  _ fit _ .

Kara likes it slow. She favors gentle stroking, to edge herself until it almost hurts. Until the pressure building at her base is too much to be contained, and that’s when the hope that  _ this time it will work _ is disattended. 

But the images flash through her mind so fast, her hand speeds up to keep the pace. She hears herself pant, growls and whimpers falling from her lips. Then the roaring of her blood becomes too loud, and even the pornographic noise her hand is making as it glides up and down her length is muted. Far away, like it’s happening to somebody else.

Kara only sees Lena. Only hears her, too; broken moans, high pitched whines, the wet slap of hips against ass as Kara rams into her from behind. 

Lena gurgling while Kara fucks into her mouth, her lovely throat full of Kara’s cock and waiting to swallow her seed. 

“God, you’re so big,” the Lena that now lives inside her mind says, eyes hooded, when Kara pulls out to let her breathe. “You taste so fucking good.” Lena had lipstick on when they started, and now her dick is marked in red. The sight sends a heavy throb through her, and she twines her hand in the silken mass of Lena’s hair, thrusting  _ up  _ as she pulls  _ down _ .

It’s enough. It  _ should  _ be. 

It isn’t.

The erection becomes painful, like claws screeching across a blackboard. Inside her, the alpha howls, rages at being once again denied its dues. 

The hoodie lies abandoned on her chest, and Kara blindly reaches for it, stuffing a sleeve into her mouth to suffocate a scream. The last thing she needs is Alex barging in hungover and finding her like this.

After, she won’t be able to pinpoint the exact moment she stops screaming and starts crying, but it takes twenty minutes under an ice cold jet of water for the ache between her legs to finally subside. 

No amount of soap can scrub away the ghost-sensation of Lena’s walls clenching and tightening around her cock though, but Kara definitely  _ tries _ .

When she makes it back into her bedroom, trailing water everywhere and feeling like shit, her phone vibrates in greeting.

**[Lena]: pls tell me we’re still up for lunch. Today totally sucks.**

Kara almost types back an excuse, what she’d filed under “future-Kara problems” coming back with a vengeance to bite her in the ass. 

But telling Lena no would be like admitting that she’s letting something as transient as an accidental boner get in the way of their friendship, and Kara won’t have that — biology be damned.

(a boner she encouraged, but Kara feels that, considering how it all ended, she’s allowed a pass)

**Of course we are** , she sends back, wondering whether a circle of Hell is reserved for the people who enjoy torturing themselves the way she does.  **Meet you at the Fortress in thirty?**

Lena’s reply is an almost simultaneous  **< 3** , which has Kara dropping her phone on the bed like it’s a ticking bomb about to explode. 

They text a constant back and forth every day, communication somewhat more sporadic when they’re attending class, but Lena never sent her a heart before.

Kara runs both hands through hair that’s still damp from the shower, and makes a tangled mess of it in the process. 

“Stop it,” she says to her silly brain out loud, sounding as convincing as a crooked politician pleading innocence. “It’s just a stupid emoji. Stop trying to find subtext where there isn’t any.” 

She picks her phone back up, palms clammy. Comes close to dropping it again before she manages to open Telegram back up. On the fourth try. 

That’s when her fingers slip and she replies with the eggplant emoji instead of the non-committal thumbs up she’d meant to use. 

“Oh, no.” She fumbles with the phone, racing to delete the message before Lena can read it, but is one tap on the screen too late.

She stares, caught in the grip of morbid fascination as the check mark next to her ill-advised reply goes from white to blue.

“ _ Oh, no _ .” 

Inside her briefs, her cock pounds its disagreement.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena offers her help to Kara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with more nonsense and gay pining.
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> \- Dren

The weeks that separate Halloween from the holidays are Kara’s favorite time of the year. 

She likes the cold weather, the overcast skies, the red of the last stubborn leaves contrasting sharply with the dull grey overhead. She loves how the air hurts the lungs when you inhale too deeply, how the wind is edged with frost, especially in the evening. A hint of the first snowfall. 

It’s the perfect setting for hot cocoa and long study sessions in her favorite corner of the library, up on the third floor, next to one of the big windows that let so much light stream in on sunny days.

Up there, Kara can see the entire campus, and it makes her feel a little like a bird, one beat of wings away from taking flight. She has a sketchbook’s worth of landscapes she drew while looking out that window, college life rushing by below. In all the different seasons, every time of the day. And then, pages upon pages of portraits: Mrs. Grant putting misplaced books back on the shelves, students sweating bullets on overdue assignments. 

Lena smiling at her from across the table. 

Whenever she walks by the red brick building, Kara slows down. She spares a moment to look up to  _ her _ window, a fond smile curving her lips. Fingers itching to draw something even when she knows she doesn’t have the time. 

Not today. 

Today she walks along briskly, hands balled inside the pockets of her coat, face half hidden behind the scarf Alex and Kelly got her for her birthday. 

She doesn’t take in the late autumn air, doesn’t pick up some weird shaped leaf for her collection. 

Today Kara walks as though death itself is running behind her and gaining ground. As if someone dropped hot coals inside her pants — which isn’t that far from the truth. 

Today she does her best to avoid thinking of her current sketchbook — because if she’s still drawing landscapes and the odd person catching her eye, most of it is Lena. 

Her phone, she tries to forget altogether, and it helps to have stuffed it in her messenger bag’s deepest pocket, under a lot of other assorted junk. 

She’s not had the nerve to check it again after she sent Lena that text, too afraid of what she’ll find if she does. It’s buzzed once or twice, but she’s ignored it, hoping it’s not Lena calling their lunch off. Wishing that she would. 

A particularly aggressive gust of wind throws the scarf into her eyes, and by the time Kara’s pawed it off her face, she’s rounded the corner and the Fortress waits at the end of the boulevard, the usual throng of students milling outside. 

Kara doesn’t know whose idea it was to open a superhero themed diner in the middle of campus, but it’s certainly been a hit. Affordable food options and good coffee definitely help. 

Failing to spot Lena outside, Kara heads into the diner, a wave of heat crashing into her the moment she steps through the door. 

“Hey Kar!” Nia’s working the front today, and as soon as Kara clears the door, she waves her over. “Lena’s already here. Got you guys a booth at the back.” 

“She told you?” The question comes out in a squeak that has a few heads turn in her direction, and Kara cringes. She has to ball up the scarf into her hands to keep herself from wrapping it around her head — mummy-style. 

“That you’d be joining her for lunch? Uh,  _ yeah _ ?” Nia gives her a strange look, which quickly turns into a concerned one. “Kara, you okay? You’re looking a little…  _ pale _ .” A gaggle of alphas push past Kara, calling for a table, but Nia pointedly ignores them, her attention entirely focused on her friend. 

“I’m fine.” Kara offers what she hopes is a reassuring smile, and takes a few quick steps further into the diner. “Strawberry vodka just doesn’t agree with me is all.” 

“ _ Excuse _ me,” one of the alphas cuts in with a tone that says he’s anything but sorry. “But can we get a table before the semester’s over or what?” Stepping between them, he waves both hands in front of Nia’s face, then enunciates real slow, like he thinks she’s hard of hearing. “Hellooooo!”

Kara’s so on edge about meeting up with Lena, she nearly grabs his arm, which is unusual for her. She’s worked her entire life to avoid acting like a knot-brained alpha, picking fights with anyone looking at her crossly. 

Still, she comes close to putting her hands on him, and it must show, or he must sense it, because his head whips around and he snarls her way, low and aggressive.

“What you staring at, you knotsucker?” 

“She’s getting to her table. Aren’t you?” The owner, J’onn, has sidled up to Nia, but Kara and the other alpha have been so caught up in their little stare-down contest, neither of them noticed. Kara blinks, the overabundance of alpha pheromones hitting her nose full-force for the first time. 

She realizes at the same time that everyone is looking at them now, and all conversation died. 

Oh, she’s never going to live that down.

“Yes, I am.” Ignoring the other guy, she tilts her head to J’onn and waves to Nia, before heading to the tables at the back. 

“As for you,” she hears him say as tension around the diner eases. “You can have a table when you learn to ask for it nicely. But not today.” 

The place is packed to the rafters, everyone looking to get out of the cold wind, and Kara has to pick her way with care to avoid being trampled by one of the servers.

She walks with her head down, shoulders hunched, doing all she can to ignore the eyes tracking her, the heads turning as she brushes past the crowded tables.

Then her eyes find Lena, sitting in their favorite corner booth, and the world slows down again — this time only for Kara.

The booth isn’t as well-lit as the others, and as such, it’s favored by anyone coming into the diner looking for privacy. 

Lena’s earning her fair share of dirty looks for taking up all that space by herself, but the set of her spine sends the message that she doesn’t care. She never seems to care what everyone else thinks of her; for being one of the rich kids and choosing to hang out with Kara and her ragtag group of friends. For driving a second hand car. For being the only omega on campus that’s majoring in Engineering Physics, and the best student in the program, too. 

But while Lena’s smarts are a constant source of admiration, that’s not what stops Kara in her tracks. What little light there is in their corner of the diner is gathered by her eyes, which glow a serene blue-green as they rise to meet hers. As always, the sight reminds Kara of the pines she could see from her bedroom window back in Midvale. A place that granted shaded rest during the hottest hours of the day, and promised mystery at night. 

Lena blinks, and the spell is broken. Kara can breathe again, which as it turns out, is a mistake because a hint of enticing omega pheromones reaches her nose. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.”

In her haste to sit down, Kara nearly trips over her own feet, bangs a knee against the leg of the table for good measure. The only consolation is that when she’s sitting down, Lena can’t see that the mix of her scent and her perfume has Kara’s dick tenting the front of her pants in seconds. 

“Been here long?” she asks, shifting subtly in her seat. Rubbing her thighs together only makes things worse, so the best solution she can come up with is to drop her scarf onto her lap, as nonchalantly as she can.

“Not at all,” Lena replies as Kara shrugs out of her coat, and she gets the impression that’s a lie. “But I did have to defend our table against the barbaric hordes.” 

“Another reason to buy you lunch, then.” They share a smile, and thanks to Lena’s easy going manner, Kara feels herself relax, if only slightly.

A server comes to take their orders before they can really strike up a conversation, and while they wait for their food to arrive — soup and a salad for Lena, and a late breakfast for Kara — they mainly talk about school-related stuff. 

Kara feels conflicted. 

On the one hand, she’s relieved that Lena’s not mentioning her text, or what happened during Game Night. The almost brawl she started not fifteen minutes ago. 

On the other, she keeps expecting her to say something,  _ anything  _ about it, even if it ends up being negative. The silence makes her wonder what’s going on in her friend’s head, and her own fills up with so many horrible scenarios she feels like she’s drowning in paranoia. Despite Eliza’s teachings, Kara’s never been great at packing her emotions into boxes. She doesn’t let them rule her, at least not unless it comes to the specific person she’s having lunch with now, but she’s also not the best at ignoring them. They just sit at the back of her mind and gnaw at her until she grows so distracted, she tunes out whatever’s going on around her. 

Like now.

“Kara?” Lena’s watching her closely, head tilted to the side. “Kara, did you hear what I said?” 

“Sorry, I was somewhere else.” She goes to rest her elbows on the table and nearly dunks a sleeve into the full plate she completely missed had been placed in front of her. “Wow, I really zoned out, uh?”

“Yeah, you were up pretty late last night.” This is the closest Lena’s come to mentioning their written exchange, and Kara freezes, a forkful of eggs halfway to her mouth. 

“Yeah.” She chases a bite down with a sip from the coffee she doesn’t remember ordering. “Had some trouble falling asleep.”

They eat in silence for a while, Kara going through her food mechanically. It’s really good; scrambled eggs, sausage, crispy hash browns on the side, but she can’t fully enjoy it. 

She’s too busy waiting for the inevitable other shoe to drop, and even so, when it does, she jumps so hard, she bruises her knee again. 

“Is what Alex said bothering you?” Lena’s set what little is left of her salad aside, and is leaning forward, hands clasped in front of her. “Because there’s nothing wrong with…  _ you know _ .” 

“I…” Kara drops her eyes to her own plate. It’s still half full, which is a first for her. She spears a piece of sausage through so vehemently the entire table rattles. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have pretended. And then Alex wouldn’t let things go, and I…” She sighs, setting her fork down. “I keep telling myself things will fix themselves, but I’m not sure I believe it. And everyone around me is racing while I crawl. I just feel—”

“Left behind,” Lena finishes for her, eyes distant. Like she’s staring inward, at something she’d rather soon forget. “I get it, at least a little.”

“You...do?” Kara struggles to imagine Lena having any sort of trouble when it comes to sex. To her, she’s bottled lightning, her presence enough to electrify a room. And she’s seen how other people look at her — not just alphas, either. Lena could have anyone she wanted. 

She could definitely have  _ her,  _ if she just asked. Not that Kara would know what to do if she did. 

“My first was in high school,” Lena explains, as blunt as ever. There’s no emotion in her voice that Kara can detect, but a faint trace of regret shadows her eyes, making them appear darker than they are in the low light. “Everyone around me was growing up so fast, and Andrea, she was…” She stops, swallowing hard, and now Kara can see the cracks widening in her pretence at false indifference. 

Lena recovers quickly, before she can even think of saying anything, and continues. “You know how it is when you meet someone you click with for the first time. It feels like they’re the one, that you’re star-crossed or some other nonsense. With everyone around me simping about mating bonds and whatnot, I thought so, too.”

“But she wasn’t?” 

“It seemed like it for a while, but no.” There’s more than Lena’s saying, a wound that’s not completely healed. Kara can tell, but it’s not her place to ask. The story is Lena’s, and she’ll share more if and when she wants to. 

“The thing I regret the most is that I rushed through things because of the same fear you just told me about. Of life leaving me behind.” Lena’s hands are pressed flat on the table now, creeping ever so slowly toward hers. Kara doesn’t pull away. She’s lost in the green of Lena’s eyes, and quite happy to be there. 

Besides, it feels like any sudden movement could bring an end to the conversation, and Kara doesn’t want that. Lena’s trying to tell her something. Something important. Something that Kara needs to hear. 

“I wish I’d waited,” Lena goes on, her voice so low Kara has to rise half out of her seat to hear. Their hands are almost touching now, the warmth radiating from Lena’s skin causing the hair on her neck to stand straight all at once. She thinks she should say something then, but her mouth’s too dry for words. “I wish I’d waited for someone that was more… more like  _ you _ .” 

Kara sits back down. Hard. Unsure she’s heard her right. 

“I don’t understand.” Her fingers itch to clasp Lena’s hand, but instead she grabs her paper napkin and starts to rip a corner off. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.” 

Lena will think she’s an idiot, but the last thing Kara wants is to misunderstand her. 

“What I’m saying is that… if you… if you wanted, I’d be happy to explore things with you.” She’s fidgeting, playing with the cuff of her sweater, but no, Kara must be hallucinating because Lena  _ never  _ fidgets. “I’d like to. Kara, I—” 

“I’m sorry guys,” the server interjects with the worst timing Kara’s ever seen. “I hate to ask, but it looks like the entire school decided to eat here today, and…” She throws a look to the entrance, where a long line has formed. 

“Yeah. Of course.” 

“Totally.” 

They stand up at the same time, and almost butt heads in the process. 

“We’re just gonna—” Kara recovers the slip with their order on it, greasy with spilled ketchup, and gestures to the front. 

“Yeah, if you could pay up front, that’d be neat.” The server’s smile is for both of them. “Again, I’m really sorry to have to hurry you out.” She’s already piled their plates to one side, and is wiping down the table as she talks. A group of people is walking toward them, eager to sit down. 

“Let’s get out of the way.” Lena touches her arm, prompting her into motion. 

At the front, Kara hands over twice the amount due, too stunned to fuss over calculating the tip, then elbows her way out, Lena hard on her heels. 

She walks almost a block before stopping, breath as ragged as if she’d ran a marathon. It’s colder now than when she got to the diner, but although she’s not put the scarf back on — just thrust it inside her bag as they were leaving — Kara feels none of the chill. 

“Kara,” Lena starts, and this time their hands do touch, knocking what air she’d managed to gulp down right out of her lungs. “If I said something wrong, or…” 

“No.” Kara shakes her head, almost drops her bag. “No. Just. I don’t want to ruin things between us. You’re my friend, and I…” 

“You’re mine, too. And friends help each other out.” Lena has moved so close that to anyone passing them by, it’d look like they’re about to kiss. Kara shuts her eyes, and wills the stupid alpha brain screaming she should push Lena against the nearest wall to shut up. Just this once. 

“Kara?” Something’s loosened behind the omega’s eyes.  _ Lena Luthor _ and  _ vulnerable _ aren’t two words Kara’d put in the same sentence, but that’s exactly what Lena’s face looks like. Open. Waiting to receive a blow, and hoping it won’t land. 

“I’m not saying no,” Kara says, aware that if there ever was a time in her life in which she should choose her words with care,  _ this  _ is it. “But can you give me a little time to think about it?” 

“Of course.” Lena’s scent softens, a hesitant smile appearing on her lips. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’d ever ruin things between us, Kara. No matter what.”

The alarm she’d set to remind herself of her afternoon class goes off then, startling them both. 

“That gave me a heart attack.” Kara laughs, a little nervously, but Lena joins in. It’s a silly thing to laugh about, but neither of them remarks on it. 

“Anyway, I should go, or I’ll be late,” Kara manages as the giddiness subsides. She doesn’t mention she’s already missed one class today. 

“Me, too,” Lena agrees. “I need to pick up a few books from the library, and then I promised Sam I’d help her with her chemistry assignment.” 

“Sounds like fun.” 

“Yep. You’re missing out, I’m telling you.” 

She grins, and Kara thinks she’s got no need for sunlight. Not when Lena smiles at her that way. 

***

That night Kara doesn’t sleep. 

Her north-facing room is the coldest of the house, and at this time of the year, she’d be buried under a thick comforter, only her nose sticking out to breathe, but the covers are twisted around her legs, and her body temperature climbs to new heights whenever her thoughts go back to Lena.

She’s given rest her best shot — putting on relaxing music, having a cup of herbal tea — but Lena’s words echo in her ears, keeping her awake. 

Every time she closes her eyes, she sees Lena’s, brightening to a lovely forest green as she says  _ I’d explore things with you, if you wanted. I’d like to. _

A half day has gone by, and still Lena’s offer jolts her like she’s hearing her for the first time. Her tone, soft but firm as she tells Kara that she’d be happy to  _ do  _ sex related things with her, to help her figure herself out. The dance of her pheromones as she says it, the way her hand crawls across the table, stopping just short of touching Kara’s fingers. 

If sunlight had a scent, it would smell like Lena, Kara thinks with a sigh, as she tosses in her bed for the upteenth time that night. 

And then, her own answer — stuttered really, while she burns beet-red —  _ I need to think about it. I don’t want to ruin things between us.  _

She envies Lena’s unshakable belief that she wouldn’t, no matter what ends up happening between them. Even if Kara says no, and nothing does. 

It’s a quiet Wednesday night on campus, the chapter houses dark and still, winding down from all the partying done over Halloween. 

Every now and then a car speeds by, headlights lighting up her curtains before darkness and silence return, heavier than before. It helps that she and Alex live on the outskirts, in the no-man’s-land between the actual school grounds and the nearby town, so even when there is a party going on — almost every weekend — only snatches of music and laughter drift to them.

But, right now, Kara would trade the silence for loud music and empty conversations in a heartbeat. Her thoughts are loud, a nest of enraged hornets stinging at her temples. 

It’s about 2am when she finally gives in, and reaches for the phone on her night table. 

**[Kara] Okay. I trust you and I want to try with you.**

She expects Lena to be asleep, but her phone  _ pings  _ almost immediately. Heart trying to leap out of her chest, Kara brings it back to eye level slowly, wondering whether Lena had been awake, thinking about their earlier conversation, too. 

That’s wishful thinking, though. She’s probably up late to work on an assignment. Kara has several due soon herself that she should really get to. 

**It means a lot, you saying that.** Lena’s message reads.  **What do you think about coming to my place Saturday? I think there’s some things we should talk through first that aren’t suitable for a diner.**

Some very rudimental math happens inside of Kara’s head. It’s already early Thursday, which means that Saturday is only two sleeps away. Okay, she can survive that.

Probably. 

It takes several more minutes before she can come up with a suitable reply.  _ Can’t wait  _ feels way too eager,  _ okay _ is just so  _ dry _ . 

“Perfect,” she whispers to herself as she types it in the message app. That shows enthusiasm without sounding overeager. Then, feeling brave, she adds a heart emoji at the end, and waits with breath held between clenched teeth for a reaction.

An answering  **< 3** pops up on her screen, and her exhale goes on forever.

When Kara dozes off, phone clutched to her chest, all she dreams about is Lena.

***

The next day, Kara thinks that she miscalculated. 

The hours crawl by, slow as molasses, and Saturday seems a century away. Unreachable, but just over the horizon all the same.

Assignments and classes keep her busy, but whenever she has a free moment, her mind travels in time. She catches herself counting down the hours more than once, and having Kelly and Alex being all cuddly when she gets home in the evening only serves to heighten her sense of loneliness. 

She and Lena only text, the omega racing to finish a due project, and maybe it’s better that way. Less chances of doing something stupid. 

On Friday night, while trying to pay attention to whatever movie Alex put on Netflix, she can’t stop herself from checking in with Lena. 

**[Kara]: Still up for tomorrow, right?**

**[Lena]: yes :) Swing by whenever. You know I’m an early riser.**

_ Something else _ is rising in Kara’s pants, her imagination getting the best of her, and she has to excuse herself rather quickly, racing down the hall to lock herself up inside the bathroom. 

“Not now,” she hisses down at her insubordinate cock, like a teenager dealing with their first erection. “I’m trying to have a conversation here.” 

She already knows that nothing short of a shower will make it go down. 

**[Kara]: what if I brought you breakfast?**

**[Lena]: so, you’re just bringing yourself then :p**

Kara stares at her phone, open-mouthed. That’s...cheeky. No. That’s flirting. Lena’s  _ flirting  _ with her. A series of replies flashes through her mind, each dirtier than the last.

**[Lena]: sorry. Was that too much? I know you must be nervous. Have I made it worse?**

Kara’s fingers are shaking so badly she has to grip her phone with both hands to type.

**[Kara]: no. I was just thinking that I wouldn’t be very nutritious, would I?**

Oh, what the  _ hell  _ is she doing? 

**[Lena]: That’s fair. Scones, then? I got your favorite brand of coffee.**

**[Kara]: deal ;)**

Kara exhales, setting the phone down on the edge of the sink, and sinking to the floor slowly, back pressed against the cold tile. 

She hasn’t screwed up, then. Not yet.

When she climbs to her feet sometime later, blood swiftly floods downward, reminding her she’s still almost all the way hard. 

“Shit.” 

It takes her seconds to strip naked and step into the shower, already cupping herself. Thumb teasing at the tip. She’s slippery with pre-cum, and the water slicks her further, hand gliding almost frictionless over her shaft. 

Kara knows she will not come, but she gives in anyway, lukewarm water spraying down her back as she strokes herself, dick jumping whenever she fists around the base. 

“Lena,” she moans, feeling the usual pang of guilt. But now things are different aren’t they? Lena  _ wants  _ to help her. Lena wants to kneel for her and suck her off. She wants to lay in bed with her legs spread as Kara bears down on her, fucking into her until she comes inside her hot, wet— 

“Fuck!” 

Kara’s hips buck so hard she loses her balance, ending up in a heap on the shower pan and taking the penguin-patterned curtain down with her. It drapes over her comically, the parody of a superhero’s cape.

For a few minutes, she just kneels there, head lowered and pain flaring through her banged up body. Her knees were already aching from the table in the diner, and she can feel another bruise form on her shoulder where she smacked it against the tile.

“Kara?” Alex’s voice calls from the hallway. “You okay? We heard a crash.” 

“I’m fine!” She scrambles up, wincing as pain spears through her entire back. It’d be just her luck to have broken something. “I’m sorry if I bothered you.” 

“Okay. If you’re sure…” Alex tries the door. Finds it locked. “Well. Holler if you need anything, yeah?” 

“You got it!” 

Kara waits, holding her breath until she hears her sister’s steps recede. She doesn’t know if it was the fall, or Alex’s concerned scent filtering from underneath the door, but her cock is soft now. It droops to the left, kinda sad looking.

“Oh, stop it,” she berates herself, turning off the water after she’s done rinsing off. “It’s not like you’d have jerked off successfully this time.” 

By the time she puts on a clean shirt from the pile she forgot to take back to her bedroom the day before, Kara already knows sleep will be a long time coming.

If it comes at all. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena lends Kara a... helping hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're silly and in love and are definitely not talking about it. 
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> \- Dren

Saturday dawns clear, but so cold there’s frost on Kara’s window. 

The layer of ice glints rose gold as sun rays hit the glass, not that Kara’s been up since the sky started greying at the edges.

She’s not nervous or panicky, nothing like that. And she’s not emptied out her closet in search for the right combo of clothing to wear. 

Except she has, she is forced to admit, as she perches on the edge of the bed with a flannel in her hands.

Her room is a mess.

More than that, the usually tidy space looks like a warzone. 

She’s wondering whether she should try and bring back some semblance of order to it when a sudden knock at her door comes close to sending her into another plane of existence. 

“Yeah?” 

Kara’s surprised anyone besides her is up this early. Kelly slept over, and Kara had expected to be long gone before either she or Alex woke. It was Saturday after all, which meant no classes and no early shifts for Alex. She’d have been still in bed herself if anxiety hadn’t kept her up most of the night.

“Hey.” It’s Kelly, pushing the door open a crack to peer in. “Wow. Did a bomb go off or something?” 

“Kinda.” The flannel in her hands joins the growing pile of clothes taking up the majority of her unmade bed, and Kara stands, motioning for her to come inside. “Was I making too much noise?” 

“Not at all.” Kelly slips into the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her. “Alex is snoring.” 

“You’re too good to her. I would have kicked her to the couch.” 

“As tempting as that is, I know I’d feel bad after.” Kelly has to step around a discarded pair of jeans to get to her side of the room. “So, wanna talk about it?” 

“About what?” 

“About what has you scraping the bottom of your wardrobe at 6am.” 

Kara considers. 

At first, when Alex and Kelly had gotten together, she’d been wary. She figured Kelly was a rebound, Alex’s way to get over Maggie leaving her and moving to another city. She’d wanted to talk to her sister about it — her first impression of what, at the time, she’d thought a fling had been of someone too nice to deserve having their heart broken — but then she’d gone out with them a couple of times, her protectiveness over Alex oughtweighting the embarrassment of third-wheeling, and actually  _ saw  _ the two of them  _ together _ .

Kelly makes Alex happy. Her sister is kind, but hot-headed, and Kelly’s self-possession balances that out nicely, most of the time. 

Plus, she’s nice to Kara, too. 

Not that Maggie hadn’t been, but Kara’d always thought she was a bit too jealous of the time Alex chose to spend with her. Like Kara was stealing something from her. 

So she’s not overly surprised when she ends up telling Kelly everything. 

“Do you think I’m overreacting?” she asks when the other omega says nothing. 

“That depends.” Kelly moves a pile of shirts out of the way and sits down, craning her neck to meet her eyes. Somehow, Kara feels like she’s the one being stared down at. “How many times have you changed, so far?” 

“Like, two,” she lies, but when Kelly’s dark eyes narrow, her scent sharpening, she hangs her head in defeat. “Okay. Five.” 

She expects Kelly will tease her. Braces for it even.

“Do you want me to help you pick an outfit?”

Kara stares, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. 

“What?” 

“I can help you make up your mind on what to wear if you’d like,” Kelly repeats, folding her hands in her lap. There’s a smile on her face, but it’s not a teasing one. She genuinely wants to help. “Come on. Show me what you were thinking of.” 

Kara walks her through the different options, and with her help, she settles for a red and black plaid flannel, black jeans ripped at the knees, and her well-loved pair of Timberlands. They’re scuffed, and she could use a new pair, but she’s too emotionally attached to them to throw them out. 

Broke, Alex would say.

“Isn’t it too much?” She stares at her reflection doubtfully, doing and undoing the first button of the shirt. She likes the way the flannel looks on her, how it highlights her forearms when she rolls the sleeves up, but she’s worried she’s channeling the sort of alpha she sees strutting across campus. Walking as if they think they’re the only ones with a cock.

“It makes you look very handsome.” Kelly stretches her arms above her head and yawns. “And leave that button open. You want to show your throat.” 

“But...why?” 

“Just  _ trust  _ me, Kara.” It seems like the sort of omega thing an alpha will never understand, and Kelly’s been so helpful already that Kara shrugs and rolls with it. “I’m heading back to bed. See if I can find a way to stop Alex from making that unholy noise.” 

“Pinch her nostrils shut.” At Kelly’s blank stare, Kara shakes with barely suppressed mirth. “She’s always snored a little bit, and since we used to share a room, I had to come up with my own ways to make her stop. That one almost always works.” 

“Bless you.” After drawing her in for a quick hug and a peck on the cheek that has her face match the red of the flannel, Kelly disappears down the hall, a newfound spring in her step. 

Kara hovers near the open door a moment longer, the buzzsaw noise of Alex’s snoring puttering off into a sputter before it stops completely.  _ Yep, _ she thinks to herself with a soft smile that helps switch her nervous system status from impeding breakdown to manageable nausea,  _ the old method still works _ .

She spares one last glance for the mirror — an emergency once-over to make sure her hair bun is not coming undone — then grabs the backpack she’d prepared the night before and her motorcycle helmet. 

Outside, it’s even colder than she expected, the air so sharp that the first hit is a punch to the chest. Kara groans, zipping up her padded leather jacket, and throws a dubious look to the old Yamaha she  _ inherited  _ from Alex after her sister bought herself a car.

She could take the bus to Lena’s house, but that means waiting another hour — buses run less often on the weekends. 

Besides, Lena’s place isn’t that far, and Noonan’s, where she plans to stop to pick up scones, is on the same route. She can defrost there for a minute and then be on her way.

It all goes according to plan — ending up frozen to the bone included — and when she pulls up in front of Lena’s house, it’s a more reasonable hour. 

Early, but not  _ ass crack of dawn _ early anymore. 

Lena’s car takes up most of the small driveway, but there’s enough room left for Kara to squeeze her bike next to it if she’s careful. A small smile plays along her lips. It’s the first time she’ll be at Lena’s for more than a handful of minutes. Usually it’s to drop something off, or borrow one of the books the omega’s always more than happy to lend her.

The house is another thing nobody can wrap their head around. 

Kara lives on her own, too — Alex and Streaky notwithstanding — but can afford to because her sister already works. 

Alex is the one who offered her a room as long as she helps with chores and the odd job around the apartment. Kara pitches in what she can monetary-wise, of course, but living with her sister means she pays less on tuition and can save most of what she makes working for Clark. 

Loads of undergrads work to pull themselves through college, but the majority still live in the dorms, like Nia. 

And that’s why Lena’s situation is one that stands out. 

She actually  _ owns  _ the house she lives in.

Kara’s heard all sorts of commentary on that. Of course she does, people who know no better scoff with envy, the Luthors are rich.  _ Daddy  _ must have bought it for her. 

The remark is usually followed by speculation as to  _ why  _ she doesn’t live in one of the town’s rich neighborhoods, like the Sinclairs and the Lockwoods, or the other old families with loads of money to burn. 

Like Kara’s self-appointed arch-nemesis Veronica, for instance, who throws outlandish parties in her mansion nearly every weekend. Not that Kara is invited, obviously. 

What people  _ don’t  _ know is that the unassuming one-floor house is an inheritance. It used to belong to Lena’s grandparents, on her real mother’s side. 

Kara doubts anyone else knows. She only does because Lena mentioned it to her in passing once. Kara’d been elbow deep in grease, trying to fix Lena’s garage door, which had just come close to decapitating her when it happened, and they’d not touched upon the topic since. 

She remembers pausing at the sad note in Lena’s voice, wanting to ask more about that side of her family, but scared of stepping over some unspoken boundary between them. 

The wind picks up, icy fingers pushing through all the layers of her clothing, and Kara comes back to the present with a start, realizing she’s been standing in front of Lena’s door, like a fucking idiot, fingers extended for the doorbell.

Before she can actually ring it, the door opens, and Lena’s right in front of her, wearing a soft-looking cardigan and nursing a mug of Earl Grey tea. 

Her hair is unbound, still tousled as though she’s not spent too much time combing it after she got up. The smell of sleep still hangs around her, too, her eyes a little bleary at the corners.

Maybe it _is_ too early still.

Kara feels her face go pink and tucks her nose into the collar of her jacket to dissimulate. One exhale, and her glasses fog up, blurring the world around her. The pink deepens to red, but at least the cold wind pinching the tips of her ears isn’t a bother. 

“Were you just standing there waiting for me?” she asks, wanting to groan right after. Of all the things she could have said, this is—

“I heard your motorcycle.” Of course. “So I came to the front.” Lena’s smiling behind the rim of her mug, but it’s bright and welcoming. “Come inside.” She opens the door a little wider, letting her through. “You look like you’re about to turn into an icicle.”

“Close enough.” 

She steps into the warmth with a grateful sigh, fighting to remove her gloves. Her hands have gone numb, and it takes her a few tries. By the time she’s managed, flexing her fingers to keep the blood flowing, they’ve walked into the living room. 

There, Kara stops. 

It’s...different from anything she’d imagined, but not in a bad way. Honestly, she’s not even sure what she expected. The space is cozy, well-loved, a nest in which she can easily picture Lena taking refuge. 

“Everything okay?” Lena’s touching her arm, warm even through the jacket she’s still wearing. 

“Yes. I was just—” Kara trails off lamely, and waves a hand to encompass the room. “It’s very…  _ you _ .” 

And it is. She can see Lena’s touch everywhere. Deep burgundy pillows, fluffed up and soft-looking, are scattered on the couch. Books are stacked under the coffee table, ranging from novels to engineering manuals, and more lay open on the sun-soaked window seat. Kara can instinctually tell that’s Lena’s favorite spot in the whole house. The upholstery is what gives Lena away. It’s worn, bordering threadbare, and bleached by direct light, patched with tender care where it tore open. Anyone else would just have it replaced. 

A bookshelf on the opposite side of the room holds the rest of her book collection, framed pictures of Lena at different stages of her life smiling down at them from among the bursting shelves. Kara sees her own face peer out of some of them. 

“Oh?” Lena quirks an eyebrow, and her body language reads expectant. 

“I like it,” is all Kara can come up with, so she puts all the sincerity she can into her voice. Her last remaining brain cell flounders for something else to say, but Lena is standing too close, and her fingers on Kara’s arm have fractionally tightened, so it eventually hangs up a  _ be back later _ sign, leaving Kara to fend for herself. 

“I’m glad you do.” Lena’s voice has dropped to a half-whisper, and as she leads Kara to the couch, she smells  _ pleased _ . 

“Do you want to give me your coat?”

It’s only after she’s handed it to Lena, and set her backpack and helmet down out of the way, that Kara remembers about her bruises. 

Perhaps it’s the heat seeping into her, or the worn couch molding to her frame as she sinks into it slowly, but they flare up all at once, causing her to sit up straighter, gingerly balanced on the edge of the seat. Her shoulder is the worst of the lot, and it even looked the part when she saw it in the mirror while she changed. An ugly black-blue stain spanning her shoulder cap. 

She’d covered up too quickly for Kelly to see it, but Lena surely will notice it if they— when they—

“Here’s your coffee.” 

Her head’s so up in the clouds that Lena has time to move to and from the kitchen in the time it takes for it to land back down.

“Thank you.” Kara cradles the full coffee mug for a few moments, then takes a careful sip. It’s a touch too hot to drink, the liquid scalding on her tongue, but perfect to warm her fingers up the rest of the way. 

The scones got a bit squished inside her bag, but they’re still Noonan’s best breakfast item, and Kara eats two before remembering it’s not very polite to gorge herself in front of her host. 

Lena nibbles hers daintily, looking on with amusement, and entirely too beautiful to handle. 

“You can have the last one, too,” she says, and Kara swears that she licks the crumbs from her fingers on purpose right after. 

The arousal that burned at the edges of her consciousness all morning builds into a hotter, sudden fire. When Kara breathes, a rush of answering pheromones hitting her nose, it folds in on itself as though waiting for her alpha to understand the message Lena’s sending her. 

It returns to her twice as strong, flames licking up her spine, singeing her lungs. 

She gets hard so fast it comes close to doubling her over.

She hates her body then, because fuck, she’s trying to not come off as the desperate  _ horndog  _ she is here, but everything in her conspires to make her fail. Every last cell is screaming _ yes, yes, yes _ , when she’s trying to tell them  _ no _ . 

Her alpha-addled brain provides a graphic image of Lena licking cum off of her cock, and Kara audibly  _ groans _ .

“I don’t think I was ever in love with Mike,” she blurts out, in what tastes very close to desperation. It’s certainly a sharp contrast to the idle conversation they’d engaged in thus far, and Lena does appear a little whiplashed. 

However, she doesn’t interrupt, simply pouring herself another cup of tea while she waits for Kara to order her thoughts enough to continue. 

“I mean, I guess I thought I was. In the beginning” she adds quietly, backtracking marginally. “Okay, I shouldn’t have opened with that—” But she’d been frantic to deflect from her evidently growing boner, and that was the first thing to zap through her mind. 

“Go on.” 

Lena puts the cup aside, and Kara gets the distinct idea that a freight train could roll through the living room this very second and she wouldn’t budge. Her eyes have zeroed in on Kara, glinting an inquisitive sort of green in the pale gold of the November sun, and the rest of the world might as well have ended as far as she’s concerned.

Kara had loved Mike at the start, when he snuck folded notes into her locker. When he hung back after school, even though his friends were calling for him to go play baseball in the park, just so he could walk her home part of the way. 

The infatuation — Kara is removed enough to call it by its name now — had ended quickly, but by that point she’d been in too deep. It took a lot of getting her feelings hurt to understand that not only wasn’t she in love with him, but Mike didn’t love  _ her  _ either. 

She tells Lena as much, who’s been listening from the other end of the couch, legs tucked underneath her. 

“He treated me like I was alpha enough, you know?” Shame she’s well acquainted with settles into the pit of her stomach, like a sack of rocks. “He didn’t seem to care that I don’t spend all of my time letting the world know how big my knot is.”

“Was he?” Lena scoots forward, the distance between them lessening by half. Pheromones wash over Kara, subtle and calming. “An alpha, I mean.”

“No, he was a beta,” Kara mumbles to the couch. She doesn’t want to watch the pity bloom in Lena’s eyes. “It took me a while to understand it, but I think that’s the reason he got together with me in the first place. I didn’t make him feel…” She pauses, chokes on the last word, and has to push it out. “ _ Emasculated _ . I was happy to let him take the lead and he—” 

Kara’s still rambling when Lena kisses her. For a moment, her lips keep moving, her brain failing to understand what’s happening. Then Lena’s hands are cupping her face, fingers threading through her hair to pull her close, and the rest of what she meant to say dies, forgotten on her tongue. 

Kara’s never been kissed this way. With Mike it was always too much spit and too much tongue pressing into her mouth. Almost suffocating. Teeth that sought to bruise, his fingers a vice gripping her chin to keep her from breaking away. With Lena it’s— she doesn’t have words for it, not as it happens. She kisses back through a fog of pheromones and wants she’s too nerve-wracked to  _ really _ think about, her body working on instinct and muscle memory alone. She thinks, no she’s  _ sure _ that she stops breathing, but air leaves her all at once in a low whine the moment Lena’s teeth close around her lower lip and lightly pull. 

Mike had used the same move, too, and Kara  _ hated  _ it. One time he’d bitten hard enough to bloody her, but she’s starting to believe her past experience isn’t a good reference point for this. With Lena, everything feels different. Bold and spanking new. 

She softens, and Lena pushes her gently down until she’s half reclining on the couch, with the omega almost in her lap. She whimpers again, hands finally finding Lena’s face, sinking into the velvet mass of her hair. 

Neither of them has the upper hand. Lena may have initiated, but one sweep of the tongue and she's the one in control; next it's Lena delving ever so gently into her mouth to steal her breath away and down into her own lungs. It's a fine exercise in balance, like the walking of a tightrope, and as it is for all such things, the fragile equilibrium has to end.

When it happens, it's purely accidental. Lena's fingers tangle in her hair, bump against the bruise Kara gave herself on Game Night, and she hisses, mouth twisting in pain. 

“Kara…” Lena gasps against her quivering lips, voice strained. Kara feels her shift, put a bit of distance between them. She’s not withdrawing, but giving herself the space to think. “Did you ice your head like I told you to?” 

“I, uhm.” Kara’s voice is an octave or so lower than usual, and she has to stop and clear her throat. Her kiss-swollen lips are tingling, and dragging her eyes away from Lena’s mouth requires a conscious effort on her part. “I may have forgotten.” 

“Hold on a second.” 

Lena untangles from her, knuckles sweeping across her cheek when Kara starts to protest. She’s gone only long enough to duck inside the kitchen, but the loss of warmth makes it feel more like a year. 

“Here.” Lena returns holding an ice pack. “Turn around so I can put this on the bruise for a while.” 

“I don’t need—” 

“If it still hurts, obviously you do.” 

Kara grumbles, but complies if only because it means she ends up sitting back to front between Lena’s legs. 

“Have I ruined the mood?” The coolness spreading from the ice pack  _ does  _ feel nice. 

“Not at all.” Lena’s cupping the back of her head, thumbing through the buzzed hair at her nape. “Hadn’t realized you’ve shaved the back of your neck,” she murmurs, sounding dreamy. “You almost never wear your hair up.” 

“Do you like it?” 

Despite her better judgement, Kara melts into the touch. This is skirting a territory more intimate than friendship, but then again, they’ve just kissed, haven’t they? 

Then, Lena’s fingers skim over a particularly sensitive spot and she blanks. Nearly purrs. 

“A lot,” Lena whispers, hot breath tickling the place right behind her ear. And then, “It suits you.”

Without meaning to, Kara lets out a breathy little whimper. She’s freefalling,  _ falling  _ more with every passing second, and cannot stop it. 

They stay that way a while, but then their bodies shift, turning to face one another — like a marigold and its sun.

"Can we kiss again?" Kara asks when the ice pack tumbles from Lena’s fingers, dropping somewhere on the floor, entirely forgotten. Her voice comes out low and thick, and Lena shivers just from hearing it, eyes darkening. 

“Yes, please.” 

It’s more visceral this time, as if the entreat laced through Lena’s tone unchained the alpha that lives inside her chest. Kara nearly growls into her mouth, fighting a losing battle with the primal need that’s reared its head inside her. To claim, to bite, to nip at Lena’s lips and have the omega writhing against her. She reins it in at the last second, a huff whistling through her nose, but Lena traces the bow of her lip, over and over and  _ over _ until Kara allows her tongue to be sucked into the damp heat of the omega’s mouth.

She is jarred back to her senses sometime later, when Lena’s hands drop down between them, to her lap. 

“Can I?” 

She stopped a breath away from undoing her belt buckle, her eyes so swallowed by pupil they’ve turned nearly solid black. Lowering her guard, Kara allows herself to really,  _ openly  _ scent her, going as far as to nuzzle her nose along the column of her throat. She can feel Lena’s heart speed up against her lips when they graze over her pulse point, and she smells… amazing.  _ Aroused _ .

Leaning in, Lena does the same to her, and Kelly’s comment about leaving her first button undone finally clicks home. 

“Are you sure?” She tries to ignore the steady throb between her legs, how fast she’s hardening. She was already at half-mast, but had been too distracted by Lena’s mouth crushed against hers to notice. 

It doesn’t work, so she takes one of Lena’s hands in hers, careful not to grasp too tightly, and pushes it back. Enough that the gravity inexorably pulling her to Lena, like a meteor on a collision course, lessens a little. 

“Lena? Are you sure?” Her spine is rigid with the fear that the axis of things already shifting between them will tilt further. Go somewhere they won’t like. 

“I’m sure, and it looks like you need it,” Lena posits, rather firmly. Her scent has cooled to a spring breeze that helps clear Kara’s head, and looking into her eyes, seeing how intensely she looks back, Kara sees open intent behind it. Lena doesn’t want her to think she’s using some omega trick to convince her, a hunch that is confirmed when she adds. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

“No, I do.” Inside her pants, her dick  _ thumps  _ in excitement. “I’m just… afraid.” 

“Kara, we’re still gonna be friends after, I promise—”

“It’s not that.” Her eyes squeeze shut like she’s fighting off pain, and maybe she is, even though it isn’t the physical kind. She speaks without thinking. “I’m scared of disappointing you.” 

“Darling,” Lena kisses her again, at the corner of her mouth. Tender and chaste. There’s a flash of something dangerous deep in her mottled eyes, but Kara doesn’t think it’s aimed at her. “You could never.” 

Then, Lena’s undoing her belt, the sound of the zipper being pulled down going off in her head like a thousand fire alarms. Kara falls back with a grunt, eyes hooded as she watches Lena’s hand dip below her waistband. An electric sort of warmth spears up from her lower belly, arcing through her spine. 

After, careful fingers cup her length and she blacks out for a second, all of her fuses blown.

Again, her traitorous mind throws her back to how it was with Mike, his fingers blunt, unkind against the sensitive ridge that runs along the underside of her cockhead. Sometimes he’d have dirt stuck beneath his nails. 

“Kara.” Lena’s kissing her jaw, fingers working to pull her out of her boxer briefs. The low timbre of her voice is smoke, seeping in Kara’s ears. She’s yanked back to the awareness of the present, and the hurtful memory dissolves. 

“Honey, if you don’t breathe, you’ll pass out on me.” 

“S— sorry.” Kara’s teeth are chattering, and she’s got no idea as to why. She’s molten. Overheating, and Lena’s hand playing over her shaft just fans the flames. 

“Shhh.” Lena licks a wet strip up to her earlobe, slicks her tongue inside it. “There you go. Just let me take care of you.” 

Long, elegant fingers close around her base, slowly stroking upward. Kara can feel her heartbeat pound in Lena’s fist, pre-cum spilling copious from the tip with its uptick. 

“God, you’re big.” Lena’s staring, mesmerized. She said the same in Kara’s fantasies. In her dreams. The omega’s tongue darts out to wet her lips, pink and glistening with drool. “So, so big.” 

Kara’s cock preens under the praise, the veins that run along its length standing out in sharp relief. The head is red and swollen, veering to a lovely shade of purple when Lena’s fingers tease lightly over it. 

“Is it a problem?” Lena’s hand slithers down a little rougher, and the question catches in her throat. “That I’m big, I mean.” 

“Oh, no.” With her free hand, Lena cups her chin, tilting her head until green locks with blue. “Omegas like a good stretch. I know I do.” 

“Fuck.” The obscenity tumbles from her lips before she has a chance to bite it back. A broken exhale is all she manages instead.

Lena’s reply is a sly smirk.

“Does it turn you on to think of fucking me?” 

“Lena…” 

Her hand speeds up, its wet glide a roar that presses at Kara’s temples. 

“Does it?” She closed her teeth around this particular bone, and it’s clear she has no intention of letting go.

“Yes!” Kara’s hips angle up so viciously she almost throws them both off of the couch. “Fuck, yes!” 

“Good.” Lena leans down again, captures her lips. Hunger is clear in the way she’s kissing Kara now, her scent intoxicating. “I want you to think of that.” She’s added a little twisting motion, right at the base, and it’s driving Kara mad. “Think of how it’d be to sink all of this inside me. To fill me up and feel me flutter around you. Gush over you as I come.” 

Kara wants to protest, but Lena’s tongue is scattering her words. “It’s okay, Kara. I know you’re close. I can feel you throb.” 

She is. 

So, so close. Right on the edge. 

Her brows knit in utmost concentration, her chest stutters and stops. She hangs suspended, white blooming on the canvas of her eyelids, and— 

And nothing happens. 

“I can’t!” She half-whimpers, half-cries, ripping herself away from Lena to push her face into the gap between two pillows. She bites into the fabric. “ _ Shit _ .” 

She’s gone and ruined everything. 

***

“Kara?” 

“Mmm?” 

Lena’s still holding her. She never stopped touching her, really, one hand still loosely curled around her erection, the other carding through her hair. 

Kara’s coming down from the height she didn’t quite reach, the taste of tears still coating her throat with salt. It’d be possibly more correct to say that she is floating. Her body is weightless, drained and lethargic after the adrenaline rush. Like she’s flying and falling all at once, but also caught somewhere in between.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Lena continues.

“Your hand is wrapped around my dick. I don’t see how it can get more personal than that.”

Her statement is followed by a pause so long she starts to regret being cheeky, then Lena’s full-bellied laughter fills the room, making Kara wish there was a way to hold sound inside a jar for when she’s downcast. 

“I guess you’re right,” Lena manages in between soft giggles. “I wanted to ask if you’re on any sort of medication.”

“Uhm.” The fog shrouding her thoughts lifts, and Kara pushes up with it, heavily leaning on one elbow to meet Lena’s eyes. The omega studies her in turn, her face now serious. “I’m on alpha blockers.” 

Eliza knows, of course, since she’d been the one suggesting it, but Kara’s never told anyone else. There’s no shame in it, really. Plenty of unmated alphas take them, especially when they can’t afford to be distracted by a sudden rut, but she’s been on them for  _ years _ . Since it became apparent Mike didn’t care to help her soothe those needs when they arose. 

“Ruts have always been a nightmare, you know. With me not able to...Well… You saw what just happened.” She shrugs and looks away, knowing there’s no way Lena isn’t smelling her embarrassment. “Made things easier.” 

“That’s why you’ve always smelled a little washed out to me, then. Not bad,” Lena hastens to add, at Kara’s unhappy noises, “on the contrary. Just… subdued.” 

The shame that had swelled inside her slowly fades. 

“I’m thinking they might be making things harder now. Would you be opposed to weaning yourself off them?” Lena pulls her hand away, and Kara has to swallow back a whine. She might not have climaxed, but she’s still hard and it hurts — unfulfilled. 

“No, but — my ruts…” 

“I’d help with those, too,” Lena quickly interrupts, gaze drawn down to her bobbing erection before it rises to Kara’s face again. The look in her eyes is almost pleading, and when she unintentionally presses closer, sending goosebumps across every inch of Kara’s skin, she finds herself agreeing. 

“Okay.” Her head jerks in a terse nod. “I’ll call my doctor and make sure I do it the right way. He told me when I started on them you can’t just go cold turkey.” 

“Yeah,” Lena rasps. She seems unable to tear her eyes away from between Kara’s legs, and in an almost empathic response, her cock strains further in the passable imitation of a flagpole. 

“As for today, would you like to try again? I think I have an idea.” Her hand rubs soothing circles on Kara’s thigh. 

“Alright.” From scalp to toes her body throbs agreement. “Whatever you want.” Kara would do anything for Lena to touch her that way again. She hadn’t come, true, but it’s the closest to bliss she’s ever been. “I trust you.” 

“Alright.” Lena leans in, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. Another to her temple. “Can you take your pants and briefs off for me? I’ll be right back.” 

This time, Lena disappears down the hall that supposedly leads into her bedroom. 

Kara tugs at her pants and underwear, hands still a little shaky, and after a short struggle, lays back down, waiting. 

Her mind wanders after Lena, pictures what her bedroom must look like. More books. An ample bed. Soft sheets, matching the burgundy pillows on the couch.

Lena walks back holding a bottle of what looks like lube, and Kara starts to tell her that she’s used plenty of different brands before. They’re cool and silky and nice against her feverish flesh usually, but make no difference other than that. 

“It’s not just  _ any  _ lube, darling.” Her heart misses a beat like it does every time Lena calls her that. The omega’s tone is scratchy, burning with embers of an emotion Kara cannot name. 

It takes some maneuvering on Kara’s part, but Lena ends up crammed with her on the couch, pressed into her side and not just sitting, one leg tangled possessively with hers. 

“Close your eyes.” Her lips move against Kara’s ear, wet tongue following their path. “Just allow yourself to feel.” 

Kara does as instructed, tensing when she hears the sound of the lube squirting into Lena’s waiting palm. 

“No.” Lena’s mouth moves lower, to her throat, her teeth worrying lightly at Kara’s jugular. “Relax.”

She cups Kara again, spreading the lube all over her with deft, regular movements. Kara expects it to be cold, but pleasant heat prickles her skin instead.

Her eyes fly open.

“Wha—” 

“Eyes closed.” Lena’s hand stops its rhythmic stroking, picking up only after Kara’s eyelids have fluttered shut. 

“This is an alpha-specific lube. It’s supposed to simulate the heat of, well, of a slicked cunt.” 

Kara’s never been inside an omega, but damn, if it’s going to feel like this…  _ Damn _ .

She must have moaned, because Lena whines a little in response, her breath coming in short bursts. She’s turned on, too, Kara realizes, and it’s like gasoline poured on her desire. 

“Oh, yes.” Lena mouths against her throat, scenting her again. “It’s going to be so good feeling you stretch me.” Another, guttural whine greets the involuntary thrust of Kara’s hips.“God, Kara. I want you to fuck me so badly.” She’s not sure Lena meant to say the last part out loud, but the words drip on her like wax, melting from the lit end of a candle. Each syllable is more incendiary than the last, and she burns, bucking, grinding into Lena’s hand every time it falls down to her base. 

Time dilates, loses all meaning, Kara’s hand closing around Lena’s as pressure mounts within her. She’s not meaning to help — it’s obvious Lena doesn’t need it — but desperate for some kind of anchor. 

She couldn’t pinpoint when she starts to come, but it happens with Lena chasing the drag of her teeth with her tongue, insistent as if she intends to burrow under her skin.

Her abs contract, an endless spasm that has her dig trembling fingers into the couch, and one faltering breath later, her heart leaves her ribcage in a rush. Blood thrums through her, the feeling of release paired with the feeling of something snapping clean in two inside her the way pine trees sometimes do when struck by lightning. What’s happening to her is just as powerful. Sweeps her along like flotsam.

With a tortured sob, Kara breaks open, ripping at the seams. 

“Like that,” Lena encourages, her hand never stopping. “Do you know how beautiful it is to see you come undone?” 

Kara can’t reply, but the question is rhetorical in nature anyhow. She tumbles over the edge messily, spilling into Lena’s hand, over her own thighs. Fat drops soak into her shirt.

She’s positive they’ve basically signed the couch’s death warrant, but Lena doesn’t seem to mind. Her hand keeps stroking, teasing, milking her for every drop she has to give. 

And Kara is so overdue, there’s plenty of it.

There are senseless bursts of color in her eyes, and it takes several long minutes before she can take a full breath again, heart slowing down from breakneck pace to something approximating normal. 

Lena lets go of her softening erection, and Kara’s eyes open just in time to see her pop cum-smeared fingers into her mouth. Her tongue works with kittenish flicks over each to suck them clean. 

She hums deep in her throat, savoring it, and fuck if that isn’t the most heavenly sound Kara’s ever heard. 

She already knows the image will haunt her in the best way every time she’s on the verge of sleep. 

“Delicious,” Lena declares, gathering a stray drop from the tip of her index finger. “Maybe next time, I’ll give you a blowjob.” 

_ Next time _ . 

Lena  _ wants  _ there to be a next time.

If Kara had been well-caught before, now she’s completely  _ fucking  _ gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-coital Saturday bliss... but is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with more nonsense about idiots in love.  
> Enjoy.
> 
> \- Dren

They spend the rest of Saturday cuddled on a miraculously unsullied couch, watching Netflix and eating chinese food. 

Well, Kara does most of the eating and the watching. Lena seems to just be watching  _ her _ , blue-green eyes capturing the light. They hold a sparkle in their depths, like sunlight playing over water. 

Kara’s not sure it’s ever been there before. 

Lena’s kind enough to grant her free use of her shower, and as Kara shifts closer to her, trying her best to appear natural about it, she congratulates herself for having brought an extra set of clothes. Her cum-spattered ones are bundled up inside her backpack and Kara already dreads having to sneak around Alex to wash them. She doesn’t mind her sister knowing what she and Lena did (and hopefully will do again a lot more times), but like, not  _ immediately _ . 

She wants to keep the moment to herself, just a little longer. 

The house creaks around them as it settles, the weathered wood popping and moaning like the joints of an old man, and there’s a scratching noise coming from the roof. 

“It’s just the wind,” Lena explains when Kara looks up curiously, frowning as if she had x-ray vision and could see through the plaster and shingles beyond. “The tree in the back has grown so tall the branches scrape against the roof when it’s too windy.” 

Kara nods. 

She spotted the red oak peeking above the house. The foliage was nearly gone, but what the wind hadn’t yet managed to tear away had drawn her gaze, fire-red. 

“It’s probably too big for the backyard now,” Lena muses, and something in her tone compels Kara to lean in and hold her breath. “But I can’t bring myself to have it cut down. Grandpa planted it for—” She stops abruptly, and sitting a little straighter, reaches for what’s left of her  _ lo mein _ . “It doesn’t matter. Besides, I don’t wanna bore you.”

Kara isn’t bored. 

She wants to tell Lena. She wants to tell her she’d listen to her for hours, or just sit in silence next to her. Whichever she prefers. She goes as far as to open her mouth, then sees that same cloud come over Lena’s face, the one she’d glimpsed the day they were fixing her garage door. It’s an insurmountable sadness, a grief that never properly healed, or one she never truly processed. 

So, instead of speaking, Kara bumps her shoulder softly, and her reward is Lena leaning back against it with a sigh. 

She’s warm and soft against her body, smelling of frankincense and lavender. A bit like Kara, too, now that she thinks about it, which isn’t strange considering where Lena’s hands have been. 

It makes Kara kind of regret she took Lena up on her offer and went for a shower. But things were way too sticky on her (literal) end to go without. 

They sit in quiet contemplation through another episode of  _ Teenage Bounty Hunters, _ but Kara’s not paying all that much attention to the plot, her senses stuck on Lena. How nice it is to have someone she can sit next to without feeling like she’s got to fill the hours with small talk or it’s a waste of time. The two of them have always managed to spend hours in the library or in one of the student lounges around campus, each doing their own things while still  _ being  _ together, and when Lena had offered to help her with her…  _ problem _ … Kara had been afraid that it would change that dynamic. 

But if it has, she can’t yet tell.

It would be cold inside the living room if she were sitting alone, as the panes of the bay window don’t seem to fit as tightly as they should. The glass occasionally rattles, letting the most insistent drafts inside, and Kara’s grateful not only for Lena’s closeness, but also for the hand-knitted blanket she threw over them both. 

It’d be easy to fall asleep, cocooned in all that warmth. She does for a while, or maybe her mind just drifts, because when she blinks the room back into focus the sun is slanting in a way that suggests sunset, and Lena’s shut off the tv. 

The omega is doing her best impression of being engrossed in a book, but her eyes fly up to Kara’s face every few words, calling her out on the lie. 

“Hey.” When she sees Kara staring back, she gives up on all pretence and puts the book away. “Wore you out, uh?” 

Kara stretches, grinning back. 

“I’d say it was a planned nap so that I could return the favor.” The fact she can still  _ smell  _ Lena’s arousal after so many hours have passed (and after Lena also showered with the excuse she was too cold) is testament to how much the omega enjoyed what they’ve been up to. At least that’s what her alpha’s telling her. It’s also saying she should put an arm around Lena’s shoulders and  _ kiss her _ . Push her down on the couch the way Lena had done with her, or kneel at her feet and bury her face between her legs, right at the source of the sweet-salty scent that’s riling her up this much. 

Although that last part is mostly  _ her _ , the alpha growling in the back sort of unsure about the concept of  _ kneeling _ . And that, maybe, is a bit of a change since she’s never considered herself to be above anyone and certainly not based on a stupid biological divide, but when Kara’s mind fills with the image of Lena’s dripping slit, of her tongue parting the pinkish folds delicately to delve deeper (or maybe she’ll do that with her fingers), everything alpha in her nods enthusiastic agreement. 

“It’s getting kind of late, unfortunately,” Lena says, pointing at the clock on the far wall. It’s an old, wall-mounted grandfather clock that doesn’t fit with Lena’s style at all, and so must be something she inherited along with the house. There are other such things around the living room, especially on the bookshelves, but while Kara’s normally attracted to odd knick-knacks, Lena’s words have struck her the wrong way. 

They sound like an excuse. 

She berates herself for that thought as soon as it forms in her mind, and nods in understanding. Inside, she’s like a wounded animal. 

But it’s her fault, really. Lena did talk about a next time, but never implied she wanted Kara to  _ reciprocate _ . Exploring things together can mean anything at all — cave diving, hiking, getting jacked off by your friend — and it’s not Lena’s problem that Kara inferred the wrong thing. 

“Of course.” She stands so fast the room around her spins, and she stumbles into the coffee table. At this rate she’s going to end up looking like one giant Kara-shaped bruise. “I’ve taken up most of your day already.” She doesn’t mean for it to come out the way it does, for the lilt of sullen pain, but  _ shit,  _ realizing that Lena may not want the same kind of attention she’s been giving her hurts a lot more than— 

She doesn’t have a comparison for it. Maybe skinning both your knees and then deciding skinny-dipping in the Dead Sea is a good idea. 

Lena follows with her eyes, but says nothing as she gathers her things up, only standing when Kara makes for the door, almost at a run, winded and on edge. 

Because how the  _ fuck  _ has she gone from the elation of her first orgasm to feeling like her lungs are full of bile in the space of just one sentence? 

All that Kara wants to do right this minute is get out of Lena’s house and back to hers. Lock herself inside her bedroom and hug the fluffiest pillow in her possession — or Sprocket, the teddy bear Eliza had her find in her bed the day the Danvers brought her home — and scream until her lungs give out.  _ Hard _ . 

(What the fuck. What the  _ fuck _ . What the f—) 

The hallway leading to the front door seems to stretch indefinitely. It narrows and collapses inward on her head. It’s not — obviously — but Kara hears the rumble of the crumbling walls, already sees the red oak crashing through the roof, bearing the house down with it as it falls.

Lena’s saying something, Kara sort of hears the garbled words — vaguely, in the back of her head — but it’s not enough to pull her out of whatever has gotten into her. 

She’s topsy-turvy, and can’t seem to right herself. Numb, but tingly all over. 

It’s happened to her other times, this disconnection from reality. Like she’s falling out of her own body, standing beside herself to witness the trajectory of impending chaos. The particles of it, tumbling into one another to form an ever growing mass of  _ doom  _ that spears in her direction at full speed.

It’s comparable to when you watch a horror movie and scream at the protagonist to not open that door, or go down that set of stairs, but they don’t — can’t — heed your warnings. 

_ Out-of-body _ Kara tries to warn the rest of her about how bad things are going to get, but her words fall on deaf ears.

Only when Lena’s hand closes around her arm, effectively preventing her from walking any further, does her brain snap out of its funk. 

“God, Kara I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.” Lena’s voice is shaky, her eyes round and pleading. “Say something?  _ Please _ ?” 

“I...uh…” 

She doesn’t know what to say, is the thing. For somebody that got adopted into a family of scientists, she’s such a  _ giant  _ idiot sandwich. 

Frankly, she feels a lot like she did back in the diner when everyone’s eyes had been on her, waiting for her and the other alpha knot-brain to punch the lights out of one another. Hoping one of them would end up on their ass. Silently judging. 

But while Kara’s mostly learned to not give a toss about what strangers think of her, it’s  _ Lena  _ in front of her now. 

“I just.” She swallows, and  _ fuck  _ she hates this conversation already. It’s not the kind of talk you want to have while standing. Or sober. “I just thought you…” 

“I do.” Lena speaks over her, words coming out in a scratchy rush. “I meant…. I won’t pretend I know how what we did today felt for you. Coming for me it’s not...well it isn’t an issue. And I want you to touch me the way I did you. I really,  _ really  _ do. But I—” She runs out of breath then, and has to gulp air down before continuing. She runs a hand through the mass of her hair, too, and the end result makes her look like a very attractive Gorgon. “I figured you may want to bask in the afterglow a little without having to worry about pleasing me or something. I never meant for that to sound like a dismissal.” She sounds small now, and her scent reminds Kara of sea brine. As if she’s close to tears.

Lena’s blushing something fierce, too, not looking at Kara for more than a handful of seconds at a time. Her hands open and close at her sides, and Kara can’t help but reach out to take them both in hers. She winces at how calloused hers feel compared to Lena’s. The omega’s long fingers are strong, yes, but her skin is as smooth as silk. 

“I’m a moron,” she blurts out, without thinking, wishing she could sink into the wall at her back.

“No.” As soon as she opens her mouth, Lena shakes her head. “If anyone’s a moron, that’s me.” 

“No, Lena. I should have known—” 

“I never should have said—” 

They’re going round in circles, with no end in sight, blabbering over one another, so Kara does the only logical thing left and kisses her. 

Two things happen at once. 

Her lips on Lena’s shut the omega right up, and she  _ falls  _ into Kara’s arms, tipping them into the wall so hard a framed photograph crashes to the ground beside them. 

In turn, the moment Lena’s lips part for her tongue, Kara’s brain shuts down. Blood flows south so fast her vision goes entirely dark, and it’s only thanks to her instincts kicking in that she can see the kiss through with some level of competence. 

When they come apart, both of them are panting hard, and rest against each other for several minutes before Lena reluctantly pulls back. 

“If you don’t go now, I’ll end up not letting you leave,” she whisper-says, voice rough with arousal. Kara can smell her again and almost asks if her staying the night would be such a bad thing. 

But it would, and Lena’s right in her assessment. Kara could stay — another kiss, her hands wandering a little, and judging from how heavy-lidded Lena’s gaze is, she would let her — but they shouldn’t rush through…  _ this _ . 

Besides, after Lena’s taught her all there is to know, she’ll send her off into the world, job done, and this may have barely started, but Kara already knows she doesn’t want it to end. 

“Okay.” Kara shoulders her backpack, then pointedly drops her eyes to the hand Lena’s still holding onto. “If you want me to get home safe, I’ll need my hand back to drive, babe.” 

Oh,  _ shit _ .  _ Way to run your mouth, you—  _

“Uhm.” Kara drops her helmet and bends down to pick it up at the same time Lena does, the fact they’re still holding hands lost to them both. 

They remember a fraction of a second later, when they bang heads, groan in pain as one and straighten, and Kara doesn’t know whose face is redder, but someone should come up with a face-blushing contest. It would  _ definitely  _ sell.

“Alright, this is awkward. I feel like it’s awkward. Is it?” She points at the helmet, and when Lena gives a go-ahead, pulls it up by the chin strap. “I didn’t mean to call you that. I know I have no right to call you that, I’m sorry. It just—” All the gods must hate her, that’s the only possible explanation for the nonsense that keeps happening to her. “Well, it just came out.” 

“It’s only awkward if you let it be.” 

Right-o. Of course. Easy for Lena to say. She’s not a walking disaster of international proportions. She’s— 

Amazing. Perfect. And Kara’s head over heels in love with her. 

(No. Stop that. We’re not going there tonight. Ever. Lena’s a  _ friend _ .)

Lena lets go of her hand, but only so that she can fasten it around the collar of her jacket. It jerks Kara back to reality. 

The omega toys with the zipper, and despite the several layers of clothing separating them, it feels like those elegant fingers are stroking her collarbones instead. Kara  _ burns _ .

“Besides, I liked it. Maybe.” She blinks up at Kara, and bites her lower lip all shy. It makes Kara want to cup her face in both her hands and kiss her again. “I know I’d rather it wasn’t accidental.” 

Big breath. 

“Okay, then it wasn’t.” Kara mumbles among a general shuffling of feet. “Then I totally meant it.” She closes her eyes and prays with all her might she’s said the right thing. Please. Just this once. 

“Good.” She feels Lena’s warmth, and then the omega is pushing into her space again, brushing a kiss against her cheek. “Now off with you.” 

“Can I text you later?” 

“Please. I need to know you got home safe.” Someone — not her — opened the door, and Kara is standing on the front steps. She doesn’t need to turn to see Lena’s frowning at her motorcycle, her scent fringed in discontent. 

“I’ll be safe.” To demonstrate, Kara puts her helmet on, makes a show of fastening it securely in place. “Promise.” 

“Good.” 

And then Kara’s lowering her visor and turning away because the only other choice is to push Lena back inside and take her to bed, and she’s already arrived at the conclusion that should come in its own time. 

That time is  _ not  _ tonight.

(She watches Lena watch her through the side mirrors as she speeds off into the night, the light spilling from the house haloing her in gold. Then the road curves left, and the house vanishes from view.) 

***

It takes her about thirty minutes longer to get home than it should, but only because she takes the scenic route. The fact that it’s twice as cold as it was that morning balances things out. 

There’s been no gentle lowering of temperatures this season, the change from summer to late fall so swift it took one evening, all told. They’d gone to bed with crickets chirping out the window, and woke to find a carpet of leaves on the ground. 

As she drives through semi-deserted roads, carefully like she promised, Kara is beset by shivers, the cold digging its claws deep, refusing to let up its hold even when she goes ridiculously slow. 

She’d promised herself she would not revisit the afternoon’s events until she’d gotten home (getting hard while on a motorcycle is certainly classifiable as unsafe), but the biting chill offers an excuse. 

(In her defence it works, though.)

All it takes to warm her up is thinking of Lena’s hands on her, and by the time she pulls up in front of the apartment complex, she’s had to lift her visor. 

(Even swallowed a few derelict bugs on the way, but they were gonna die anyway, so.)

Kelly’s car is parked next to Alex’s, which means Kara doesn’t have to sneak around, and that’s a relief.

On the flip side, it also means they’re doing that thing in which they’re on the couch, Alex with her head in her girlfriend’s lap looking all dopey, and that Kelly’s unavailable to talk for the time being. 

Unwilling to disturb them — she knows they’ll untangle the moment she steps inside the living room with Alex trying to hide the fact she’d been acting all soft — Kara keeps to the shadows.    
It’s not like they’ve made it hard for her. 

All the lights are off, the movie they put on but aren’t watching the only source of light. The glow of the TV casts the living room in red and blue, the rest of the apartment in solid darkness, but Kara covers the trip to her bedroom without trouble. 

They do this often enough she’s learned to navigate the house with her eyes shut. 

She ought to pull her phone out and text Lena (who’s probably starting to get worried by now), but her fingers are still rigid from the cold, and she’d rather avoid another eggplant emoji debacle.

So, she loads the washing machine first, waiting until it starts pulling in water before retreating to her bedroom and recovering her phone. 

There, she finds out Lena beat her to the texting thing.

**[Lena]: I had a good time today.**

Kara grins, but frowns down at the text right after. It feels… truncated, as though Lena had meant to add more to it. She has to chew on her tongue for a bit, wondering what put the thought into her head before it  _ clicks _ . 

And when it does — oh, a wave of shame like you wouldn’t believe sweeps her away. 

It’s the timestamp. Of course it is. Lena’s text is forty minutes old, and she appears online now — most likely waiting to hear Kara’s home.

**[Kara]: made it back safe :) sorry it took so long.**

And then. 

**Can’t stop thinking about you.**

Can’t pass an entire sentence for an accidental butt dial either. 

Kara almost throws her phone  _ through  _ the shut window, goes as far as to swing her arm back and take aim. 

May as well tell Lena she’s in love with her next, always has been, from the first time their eyes locked across a crowded lecture hall the first week of college, during orientation. 

(Where the hell are all these epiphanies coming from anyway? Just. Stop. 

Kara swats at her own thoughts as if they’re flies.) 

Like they’re meant to be together — soulmates, star crossed lovers, the  _ bullshit  _ other alphas say when they want to honey-coat their way into an omega’s pants. 

( _ Stop it, dammit _ .)

But for her it’s not like that, is it? Yeah, she  _ wants  _ Lena — 

(Wants to be inside her mouth, inside her cunt so bad,  _ sobadsobadsobad _ .)

— heck, just putting  _ Lena  _ and  _ pants  _ in the same sentence gives her a semi — but for Kara, every word that she could use to label what happened to her the first time she laid eyes on Lena would ring  _ true _ . 

(Fuck. Enough.)

Because Mike being  _ horrible  _ in bed, and an  _ asshole  _ on top of that, is not the only reason she’s thought herself  _ broken  _ — there’s her generalized disinterest in omegas, even ones in heat. The fact she never seems to lose her mind over their scent the way other alphas do. Alex included. 

( _ La la la la _ — she doesn’t want to listen to the truth-peddling voice that whispers at the back of her mind. 

She’s.

_ Not _ .)

The thing is that Kara has felt like she was built ass-backwards until Lena came along, and the day they met, which is coincidentally the day they became friends, it’s when the concept of  _ love at first sight _ decided to punch her right between the eyes. 

(It’s not her fault that she’s slow, and has just figured it out now.)

(Yes, it is — the inner voice deadpans — idiot sandwich, remember?)

She doesn’t know whether that’s supposed to make it all sound better, or like she’s delusional. 

Probably makes her come off as desperate — like the text she just sent — actually she’s sure. 

And that’s why, at the end of the day, having a crush is her safest bet. 

A crush can be unrequited, and while that still hurts like ripping a bandaid off an open wound, it’s something Kara can be hopeful about. At the very least, an idea to cuddle up to when feeling at her lowest. 

Love, on the other hand, is a two-way street — and the fact Lena seems happy to sleep with her doesn’t mean  _ shit _ .

Deciding it’s best not to hang around for a reply, her throat already closing up, Kara sets her phone down on her nightstand and heads back to the bathroom. 

A shower will help, she decides, almost walking under the water before remembering she’s supposed to undress  _ first _ . 

A shower’s just the thing to rid her mind of all the emotional  _ garbage  _ gathered there. 

***

It doesn’t work. 

If anything, when Kara shuts the water off twenty minutes later, her fingers pruned by the long exposure to hot water, the thoughts crowding her head are polished to a sheen. 

Crystal clear and squeaky clean. 

_ Ugh _ .

She’s drained, feels like she’s gone through the self-discovery in one night that takes other people a whole lifetime. Her feet drag across the tile, and when she notices the trail of water she’s left in her wake, all Kara is able to do is stare stolidly for a few moments, the towel she could dry it with dangling forgotten in her hands. 

Even though she knows she shouldn’t, she can’t help pausing in front of the mirror to stare at her reflection. It’s fogged up by the steam still curling around her, droplets of water running down the silver surface, but the image it returns is visible enough for her cursory study.

It’s weird, is her first thought. 

There’s something  _ weird  _ about her body. A glow, a radiance. An aura coming from within, that can only be seen if one isn’t looking specifically for it. 

Kara doesn’t really understand the why’s and how’s of it, doesn’t fully understand much of what’s happened since Game Night, but feels the shift down to her bones. In her bloodstream and deeper, to a subatomic level. 

All of this considered, taking what’s possibly the last tablet of her full regimen of suppressants, is the bravest thing she’s ever done. 

The craziest, too. 

(Whichever it is, her hands are shaking. 

Badly.)

***

While she’s in the shower her phone goes off — unheard.

**[Lena]: I can’t either.**

***

In her dream, Kara’s back to being a freshman awed at college life, the horrors of midterms and late night study marathons still unknown to her.

She’s back to meeting Lena, except it takes her two days to work up the nerve and ask if the empty seat next to the gorgeous omega is taken — not an entire month. 

Not even a week later, Lena’s hand is on her thigh, dangerously close to her crotch while she tries to pay attention to what their professor is saying. 

In her dream, Kara is confident and dashing, the way an alpha is  _ supposed  _ to be. She’s the one who kisses Lena first, the first who puts a hand down the front of Lena’s pants. The one who has Lena coming in the back of the omega’s car, clenching round her fingers while begging for her cock. 

In her dream, Kara’s every inch the alpha, and  _ everything  _ she loathes.

(It’s not a dream; it’s a nightmare.)

It jolts her awake with a gasp, drowning in a sea of her own sweat and lust-soaked pheromones. The steady thud between her legs, the unbearable pressure, forces her to bite into the pillow in an attempt to muffle the scream building in her chest, but when her hand flies down between her legs to prevent what she knows is about to happen, it’s too late.

She’s already creamed her sleeping shorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [follow the link on Tumblr](https://kendrene.tumblr.com/) for more gay nonsense!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A phone call leads to other phone related fun (and sexy) activities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my beta  
> \- Dren

**[Lena]: I can’t either.**

Sunday morning finds Kara perched on one of the stools in their small kitchen, glaring daggers at her phone. Like that’s gonna magically solve all of her problems.

She should text something back, she knows. It’s already bad enough to have left Lena on read for so many hours, she  _ needs  _ to come up with a reply. 

(possibly something that will make her come off as something more than a dick with legs attached.)

She just doesn’t know what to say.

Across from her, Kelly and Alex aren’t much help. 

If they were alone, Kara’s positive that Kelly would be. She could talk with her about what happened — from the glances the older omega is stealing her way, Kelly’s  _ dying  _ to know — and get some pointers on how to proceed next. 

Telling herself that she won’t act on her feelings is all well and good, but how can she keep seeing Lena the way she is, doing the things they’re doing, without her heart betraying her? 

Bringing Lena up (in any capacity but  _ specifically  _ in this one) when Alex is within earshot is out of the question. Her sister is a decent sort while sober, but the ribbing she subjected Kara to still stings. Simply put, she doesn’t trust her to not make light of the situation.

“I’m gonna head over to Clark’s.” She says to cut her own dawdling short. Setting the plate of pancakes she barely touched to the side, she makes to stand. “See if he needs help with anything.” 

“But it’s  _ Sunday _ ,” Alex frowns at her from across the table. “You don’t work Sundays.” 

“He’s swamped and I could use the extra cash.” 

Alex stands, and before she has any time to react, rounds the table, grabbing her head and pressing the palm of one hand to her forehead. 

“Alex,” Kara tries to pull away without success. “Stop. I’m not sick.” 

“Well, forgive me for checking anyway.” Her sister replies cooly. “The few times he asked you to go help on Sunday you whinged about it for  _ days _ .” 

“Maybe.” Kara counters, the irritation the previous night’s dream left behind bubbling to the surface. “But I  _ didn’t  _ want to go, then. I  _ want  _ to go today.” 

“I still think you’re sick.” Alex points at her full plate like it’s evidence to a murder. “You barely ate.” 

Kara opens her mouth to argue further. Closes it. Opens it again, feeling like a beached, rapidly suffocating fish. Alex is…  _ not wrong _ . Although the kind of sickness that’s come over her is not the common cold. An entire different virus, not so easy to eradicate. 

“Oh let her be, Alex.” Kelly steps in, saving her. “It’s not like you won’t wipe her plate clean the moment she leaves the kitchen. We both know it, right Kara?”

“Uh, yeah. Right.” Kara goes as far as to put her plate on top of Alex’s empty one. “You can have all of my pancakes actually. I’m not hungry.” 

_ Crap _ . Alex is never gonna believe she’s fine.

“Okay,  _ now  _ I’m worried.” Alex pulls her chair around and sits down next to her, peering into her face as if noticing for the first time that Kara has grown a second head. “What’s gotten into you?” She pauses, eyebrows drawing down in thought. “Kara… Is… is this about what I said last week? You know I get stupid when I drink.” 

“Only when you drink, babe?” Kelly ribs, doing her best to suppress a bout of laughter. Her tone is light, but her dark eyes are intent, focused on Kara. She meets that piercing gaze with a desperate, wide-eyed look of her own, silently pleading Kelly will rescue her from a conversation she’s not ready to have. 

She  _ does  _ appreciate that Alex is trying to apologize, but it took her a whole week and Kara acting out of character to do so. 

And with everything that’s happened… all of her emotions, including anger, are one small push away from boiling over. Kara knows they should have a serious talk about how much Alex’s jokes hurt her — it’s what their mother taught them: to talk their differences out — but she cannot do it now. Not without saying stuff she’ll regret later, when she’s not one breath away from a hair trigger reaction. 

Thankfully, Kelly’s diversion works. 

“ _ Hey _ !” Alex exclaims, full of outrage. Her attention wanders — it’s a fraction of a second, but enough for Kara to stand and duck out of the kitchen after having shot Kelly one last thank-you glance. 

When she sneaks out of the apartment about ten minutes later, Alex is still trying to prove she’s only  _ occasionally  _ dumb. 

***

The clear sky she remembers from the day before is gone, replaced by low, sullen clouds that threaten a first dusting of snow. It’s still early enough that the roads are nearly empty, and she weaves easily through what traffic she finds, pulling up in front of Clark’s auto repair shop in no time. 

If he is surprised to see her walk in on her off day, he does not let on, simply accepting her presence as if they’d talked about her putting in some extra hours earlier in the week. 

The auto body shop is Kara’s favorite place away from her old room in Midvale. There’s the smell hitting her nose as soon as she walks in — solvents and white spirit, strong enough to make one teary eyed, the thicker, almost viscous scent of motor oil. The almost constant sound of revving engines and the  _ clack, clack, clack _ of the pneumatic torque gun bucking in her hands when she has to change a set of tires. 

The workshop gives her a sense of order, a series of tasks she’s expected to carry out throughout the hours she spends there. 

After having put on clean coveralls, Kara sweeps the shop, then wanders over to the Fiat Abarth she’s been working on all week. Clark’s eyes track her for a while, but as she settles in to work on replacing the sump, he goes back to the 1967 Corvette he’s fine tuning for a client. 

As her hands get progressively dirtier, her mind quietens and Kara starts to feel a little less on edge. 

It’s always this way with her. Any kind of manual labor will do the trick after some time, but she finds that cars work the best. 

Unlike people, cars are easy. You figure out what parts need swapping out, from where they’re leaking, change what’s too old to properly function and test until the engine sounds the way it should again. 

Even the new models, where everything is electronic and you need a laptop for diagnostics, work the same, despite Clark claiming the opposite. 

No matter how hard she wished it’d be the same for humans, people aren’t that clear cut. It can take years to figure out what parts are faulty, and even then there may be no replacing them. She knows because she’s tried. 

“Lunch?” Clark has walked up to her without her noticing, catching her off guard. 

“Uh, what?” It can’t be noon already, but when her eyes roam to the clock hanging on the wall among the rows of old license plates and banged up road signs, Kara finds out that indeed it is. Closer to 1pm, actually. 

At the thought of food, her stomach grumbles. 

“Wash up, cuz.” Clark smiles, nudging her elbow with his. “Lois made pot roast.” 

Of course she did, Kara thinks as she wipes her hands on an already greasy rag, making it greasier in the process, then shuffles after him to the washbasin in the corner. It’s Sunday. 

On any other day of the week they get so busy there’s barely time to sit between finishing working on one car and starting on the next, so whenever Kara is around at lunchtime they end up having a quick sandwich, a cup of lukewarm coffee from the thermos Lois brings down from upstairs earlier in the morning. Even those are good though, anything that comes out of Lois’s kitchen is, and today Kara is so starved she cleans up in record time, the breakfast she passed on coming back to haunt her. 

“So, what’s on your mind, then?” Clark asks out of the blue after they’ve wiped two full plates each and are loading the dishwasher while Lois brings little Jonathan in his bedroom for afternoon nap. “You know I’ll never say no to you putting in extra hours, but you’ve been awfully quiet today. If there’s anything you’d like to get off your chest...” Kara realizes she’s been scrubbing the same pot over and over just as he trails off, and for a few moments all is tense between them. The silence stretchy, like an elastic band ready to snap. 

She should have imagined that Clark of all people would figure something’s wrong. 

The man with eyes as blue as her own, and the same stubborn cut to his jaw. Two halves chiseled from the same hunk of stone, Lois had teased them with a laugh the first time Kara had come over, timid and unsure of where she stood. 

He’d shown up the day she turned eighteen, a tall, broad-shouldered alpha with a spray of gray at the temples and laugh lines around the eyes. Eliza greeted him on the front steps of their house in Midvale as if she knew him, but diffident and strangely formal all the same. 

At first Kara had thought that maybe he was her father — nevermind what the adoption papers said — and her heart had almost leapt out of her chest. 

He was not, but he’d come to talk to her about her family —  _ the choice to hear him out is yours  _ Eliza said with no small amount of fear layering her voice. 

Kara had decided to let the blue-eyed stranger who looked so much like her into her life, and loves the history he gifted her through the old family photo albums, but the affection she bears for the Danvers hasn’t changed, nor dimmed. 

“Nothing’s going on,” she lies, playing with the suds at the bottom of the sink, and knowing full well Clark won’t buy it. “I just figured with all the work you’ve been getting you could use having me around today.” 

Another long pause follows her statement, broken only by the soft sloshing of water and Jonathan’s giggles. Apparently, the baby isn’t ready to nap, yet.

“I just mean to say you’re family.” Clark continues, stacking the clean plates to the side while Kara pretends to be engrossed in the way the soapy water is whirling down the drain. “Like, I know you have a family of course. But I’m here. If you need anything, that is.” He’s always a bit tentative on the subject, and Kara thinks that’s mostly due to Eliza. He entered Kara’s life on tiptoes, and even though her adoptive mother has thawed toward him compared to the beginning, he still makes sure everyone knows he’s not trying to stick his nose in their affairs. 

“It’s just…complicated.” The words come out of her unbidden, and the fact she’s talking about what’s going on seconds after deflecting is enough to tell her how much she needs to unburden to  _ somebody _ . And who better than Clark, honestly? He’s an alpha too, and mated. Married. With kids. Surely he can give her a nudge in the right direction. (wait. No. She’s not thinking about mating bites and  _ definitely  _ not kids.) “So there’s this—” 

Before she can say more Lois is back in the kitchen, holding a cordless phone neither of them heard ring in her direction.

“For you.” She says, as Kara’s fingers tentatively close around the device. “It’s one Lana? Lena? Asking after you. A  _ girl _ .” The last is directed to Clark, who’s blinking from her and back to Kara a little dumbly. 

“Hello?” As she brings the phone to her ear, everything else fades to a fuzzy, confused background. Is it rude to step into another room, considering this is not her house? Kara’s positive it’s some unforgivable breach in etiquette, but she’s too caught up in Lena, who she hears breathing a trifle too fast at the other end of the line to care. “Hello?” 

“Uh. Yes. Hi Kara. I— Uh. Can you talk?” There’s a strange lilt to Lena’s voice. An almost fragile note that shimmers through every word, like spun glass. She’s talking quickly too, the words crowding on top of one another. A stream, no a river of them, spilling over the banks of Lena’s chest and pouring in Kara’s ears. She doesn’t even manage to get a word in, before the omega continues. “I’m sorry to have called here, but you weren’t picking up your phone and I… Anyway, Alex told me you were working and gave me your cousin’s number. I hope that’s okay? I just…” 

“My phone didn’t ring.” Kara says slowly, free hand patting her back pocket. She’d shucked off the coveralls before heading upstairs — Lois would kill her and Clark for tracking motor oil and dirt inside the house — but her phone’s not here. Her phone is— 

_ Home _ , she realizes, nausea flipping her stomach upside down. She’d been so focused on dodging the conversation with Alex she must have left it on the kitchen table without noticing. She’s given Lena only radio silence for nearly a day — no wonder she’s sounding so distraught.

(Idiot.  _ Idiot _ .  _ IDIOT _ .)

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” she blurts out in the same moment Lena says, “I shouldn’t have called.” 

They fall into a deadlock, an awkward and terse silence, and Kara forces herself to push some air into her lungs. She feels lightheaded, and can’t seem to remember how to breathe. “You first.” She exhales at last, heart thump-thumping in her throat so hard she nearly chokes on its beat.

“It’s silly, actually.” Lena’s regained some of her composure, but somehow, Kara can tell she’s blushing. Maybe because matching heat is blooming on her cheeks. “I just. You sent that text, and I sent that other text and then you didn’t say anything more, but I could tell you’d read it, because someone who’s either a genius or a fool invented checkmarks that turn a different color when the other person’s opened the message and—” 

Yep. This definitely doesn’t sound like the Lena she’s come to know and grown to  _ love _ (like). It feels that she’s taken a page from Kara’s very own  _ rambling for beginners _ book.

“I wanted to.” Neither Clark nor Lois have followed her inside the dining room or appear to be listening in from what she can tell, but she retreats further back, to the window overlooking the small backyard where her cousin already started putting up a swingset for the boy. “I wanted to. Reply. But…” 

_ (But you make me forget my words. But I’m afraid you’ll realize I’m an idiot and stop being my friend. But I love you and I’m afraid it’ll slip out if I say too much.) _

“I meant it, though.” She picks up again, every word a struggle. “When I wrote that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I meant it.” 

“Oh.” Lena breathes into her ear, and Kara wonders how one simple sound can contain so much relief. “Good, because if you were taking up all of my thought capacity and I wasn’t, that wouldn’t be fair.” 

“I am?” She asks, leadingly. Her heart will explode out of her chest any second.

“Most of it.” Lena amends, and she sounds like she’s smiling now, so much so that Kara’s lips curve upwards too. 

“So, uh.” Kara’s voice lowers to a whisper. “Since it looks like we can’t stop thinking about each other, should I come by again sometime next week? Or you could come over to my place. Alex is working the night shift, I think.” She never dreamt that she could be so brazen, and nearly takes everything back, but Lena’s humming into the phone, sounding regretful.

“I wish,” she says, as quiet as Kara. Whatever frailty she’d detected in her tone is gone, replaced by a warmer, huskier note. It makes her shiver, and she has to remind herself she’s standing in her cousin’s dining room. If she doesn’t have a care, she’ll end up scenting the entire house in her pheromones, and then Lois will  _ really _ have her hide. “We have midterms, though.” Lena resumes, and Kara wants to hit herself over the head. Of fucking course. Midterms.

She must have groaned without realizing because Lena lets out a soft laugh, a liquid sound that teases down her spine like water. She’s not laughing at her expense either, Kara can tell that much. It’s rueful, a little self-deprecating. Perhaps the omega too had forgotten their other commitments for a moment.

“I guess we can’t afford that much of a distraction, uh?” She could, in theory, fail a class or two, but Lena would never agree to it. Or allow her to.

“It’d be… unwise. The week after this one would work, though. We could get rid of all the accumulated stress.” Warmth pools in Kara’s belly at the prospect, and she presses her cheek to the cool glass of the window to keep herself from overheating. It helps. Barely. Enough that she can put the images scrolling through her mind like bad amateur porn — Lena in various positions underneath her, Lena’s lovely mouth wrapped around her cock — down. At least  _ below  _ her waistband, which isn’t very helpful, all considering. 

Kara twists her body away from the kitchen, hoping the boner that’s threatening to pop the front of her trousers up like a camping tent will pipe the fuck down.

Watching the window fog up with her breath, to clear when she pulls back gives Kara focus. It’s a small, inconsequential detail, but she feels more centered after.

“Not seeing you for an entire week is gonna suck.” 

What Lena had mentioned to her in relation to sucking while she was still dazed from her first ever climax flashes through her mind, and Kara’s entire body burns hotter than the famous Hellfire-level Chili they serve as a special at the Fortress. 

(it makes her boner  _ worsen _ .)

“Good thing they invented phones then. Or Skype.” Lena’s silken tone pulls her back before she can completely lose herself to the hornfest that’s raging in her head.

“You mean…” Her own voice is scratchy, two or three octaves lower than usual. Kara fakes a cough, doing what she can to sound normal.

“I mean we can call, yes.” Lena interrupts gently. “Maybe I can show you a few of the things I’d like you to do to me.”

Kara narrows her eyes, uncomprehendingly. Frowns out into the backyard as though she will find the meaning of Lena’s words there, lost somewhere amid the browning grass. Then, it  _ clicks _ and she fumbles with the phone, almost dropping it on her foot in the process, all the while feeling incredibly obtuse for having taken so long. Lena means phone sex, or a video call and showing her…

_ Oh _ .

“Uhm.” She needs a glass of water. A pitcher. Dunking her head inside an ice cold bucket would be ideal. She doesn’t need to turn back to the kitchen to know Lois is staring at her — the weight of the omega’s curious gaze is prickling heat between her shoulder blades — but she does anyhow, wincing when she catches the knowing smile Clark’s wife is not quick enough to hide.

Great. Just  _ amazing _ .

“Only if you want to, of course.” Lena falters over the words, vulnerability seeping through again.

“Yeah! Of course I do! I—” Kara paces in front of the window, free hand twisted around the collar of her shirt. She’s ill-equipped for this, for voicing what she wants without feeling that she is imposing, or a bother. Even when she’d hinted at meeting up again, courage had deserted her as soon as the words were out of her mouth. As though it was  _ shameful  _ to tell Lena she wanted to be in her company. Just with her. Not necessarily (but hopefully?) in her pants. 

She’s spoken about it before, to the social-worker in charge of her case, who still checks in with her from time to time despite the fact she’s not under any obligation to do so. It’s a common byproduct of being fostered, Kara’s told, and even though she’s been relatively lucky — her first foster family is also her adoptive one — she has vague memories of the orphanage in which she’d spent some time after her parents’ sudden passing. She’d wanted her parents to come back. Would dream of them showing up to tell her it had all been a mistake and take her for ice cream after — cookie dough or chocolate with a whirl of whipped cream on top. But no matter all the wishing and the hoping and the wanting, nobody had come for her until Eliza, and afterwards Kara had been afraid to want anything for herself at all. Because life had taught her she wouldn’t get it, or that — if she did — it’d be ripped away from her. 

“Yeah, it would be nice to get to talk to you anyway, even if we can’t meet up.” If the phone was wired she’d have torn the cord from its socket by now, with all the pacing. 

“It’s settled, then.” Lena seems… happy. Unburdened. Kara’s stupid inner alpha starts to gloat a little (made her happy, made her happy, made her —) and she has to rein it in, before it goes into overdrive. 

They fiddle a bit longer, the conversation leading nowhere else but to the sweet sound of their own voices, neither of them willing to be the one who ends the call, but at last they run out of things to say that Kara can say while in her cousin’s house, and after one last whispered goodbye, she hangs up. 

Her brain has shorted out and she spends the afternoon in a daze, glad that some part of her knows what to do with the wrenches and screwdrivers she finds herself holding. 

It’s almost dusk and she’s washing up before heading home when Lois comes into the shop to hand her a closed envelope. 

“What’s that?” Kara feels it up, trying to discern the contents without opening it. 

“Money. Clark asked me to give it to you to cover today’s hours. You can use it to take your girl out on a date.” 

“We’re not—! She’s not my—!” Kara’s infuriating blush is back with a vengeance. “Dating.” She finishes weakly, wilting under Lois’s steady gaze. 

“Of course you aren’t, dear.” And, if her expression remains neutral, her scent says she doesn’t believe a word. 

***

Kara’s phone  _ pings _ around 10pm on Tuesday night, while she’s scrambling to finish an assignment. Kara’s more than eager to set her charcoals aside — she hates self-portraiture with a passion, but her art professor has a fondness for it.  _ Find your inner self, own it and transfer it on paper! _ He constantly tells them in his thick German accent. Kara’s heard it so many times — whatever the fuck it means — that she’s now able to pull off a passable imitation of the man.

(If she has to draw her own face one more time she’s gonna vomit.

It’s nearly all she’s done in the first part of the semester.)

**What are you up to?** Lena’s asked, and the question is open-ended enough that she could answer it several ways, starting them off completely different paths of conversation.

_ Thinking of you,  _ Kara could say, but that’s lame. She’s said as much already — it’s not less true, is it? — but that’s beside the point. What she’s heard in the creative writing elective Nia talked her into taking together pops into her mind — show, don’t tell! — so she decides to follow that piece of advice, and takes a picture of the project she’s been tearing her hairs out over for the past several hours.

Lena takes a couple of minutes to get back to her. Minutes during which Kara has had time for a full meltdown that rivals the Chernobyl disaster for the waste it lays to her internal organs — particularly her heart.

She’s always been shy about her art — which is weird and kind of counterproductive for an art major — maybe because that’s not something alphas often study. Society at large tries to pretend they’re evolved past the roles assigned to them by their biological constraints, but the truth is uglier than what the editors at Vogue want their readers to believe.

Lena’s not the only one who sticks out in her course like a sore thumb.

That’s partly why Kara isn’t keen to show her portfolios around. Alex’s seen her drawings obviously, and even sat as a model for a few, and Kelly knows because her sister can’t really keep her mouth shut (or her knot in her pants) around the older omega. But Kara’s never shown her art to Lena. Especially not what she’s drawn of  _ her _ .

When her phone buzzes again she’s so startled by the sound it makes rattling against her desk, she nearly slips out of her chair. 

**[Lena]: Kara that’s** **_beautiful_ ** **.**

(why does it feel like Lena means the compliment for  _ her _ ?)

_ Isn’t, _ she types back by rote. She’s always been rubbish about receiving compliments, never really knowing how to handle herself. She knows that, unlike Mike, Lena is genuine, but as they say, once burned — 

It’s not fair to Lena, but Kara just can’t help it.

**Is** . Lena insists.  **Are you gonna color it?**

It’s Kara’s turn to take her time to reply. She’s not sure really, and the harder she stares down at her reflection in the charcoal, the stronger doubt becomes. Kara’s never considered herself  _ beautiful _ , not even remotely handsome. Average. That’s a good descriptor for how she looks and everything she does. 

_ Not sure yet.  _ She admits, eventually.  _ I hate self portraits to be honest.  _

**Color** **_just_ ** **the eyes** _.  _ Lena’s reply is so surprising she  _ does  _ drop her phone and has to crawl under the desk to recover it. Thankfully, the carpet in her bedroom is thick enough to cushion the fall. She’s got some extra cash now thanks to Clark, but buying a new phone is not how she intends to spend it. 

She’s about to ask  _ why  _ just the eyes, when the phone buzzes again. 

**Your eyes are the first thing I noticed about you when I saw you.**

Lena is just making conversation, Kara tells herself, hands shaking so badly the phone is in danger of falling again. She’s being nice is all.

_ What are you doing, aside from chatting me up, then?  _ She parries Lena’s compliment with a question of her own. 

**I wasn’t!** The text reads almost outraged.  **It’s the truth. You really have striking eyes.**

Trying to send her to alpha heaven, that’s what else Lena is doing. Succeeding too.

**I’m trying to relax after all those tests.** Lena goes on, and Kara’s so  _ happy  _ right now that they’re not calling or on Facetime.

First of all, she doesn’t think she’d be able to talk, because the word  _ relax  _ has set off a very sudden, extremely dirty chain reaction in her mind. 

(She could help Lena relax, with her tongue or her fingers. With her cock. Anyway Lena wants her to.)

Secondly, the most apparent side effect of that is the reversal of her bloodstream.  _ Everything _ , her thinking abilities included, takes a last-minute vacation  _ south _ . 

And then, her cock is pushing hard against the front of her grey Adidas slacks. Against the seam, pre-cum staining the fabric. (Her and her habit of going commando inside the house.) Kara wants to roll her eyes. 

(okay that’s three things.)

_ I could help you relax. _

Kara stares at the message she sends back like it’s written in another language. She wants to scream, but she’s too horrified to make a sound. Potentially, she’s just managed to traumatize herself for life — which, congrats. Astounding performance there.

She’d thought the eggplant emoji would be the lowest point of her life, but she’s apparently found a way to dig even deeper. 

(She ought to major in archeology, not  _ art _ .

Her minor is obviously  _ stupidity _ . Maybe she’s still in time to switch over from English Lit.) 

**I was** **_hoping_ ** **you would say that.**

Kara squints, again. At the phone, and at her cock which salutes back, twitching trapped as it still is in her pants to attract her attention. Is Lena  _ flirting _ ? Again? She wants to ask, but that’ll make her sound like a knot-for-brains, and for all of the wrong reasons. Lena didn’t just hint about phone sex last Sunday, she’d outright told Kara that was where things could potentially be heading (eh, eh  _ head _ -ing, eh, eh) but it’s happening now and —

Oh,  _ fuck _ . It’s happening. 

Now.

_ Uh _ , she messages back fighting to get something more than a nonsensical string of letters on the screen.  _ I’m not sure whether I’ll be able to talk. _

**And here I thought it’d be harder for you to text one handed.**

There’s a smile behind every word in that sentence, the small smirk Lena wears when she’s about to wipe the floor with Kara and all of their friends at Game Night. It does something to her alpha, and her fingers fly over the phone screen to snipe back a reply before her brain cells have a chance to hit the brakes of her common sense. 

_ As if I’d be the only one with that problem. _

**What makes you think I’ve not been touching myself thinking of you this whole time?** Lena retorts, almost immediately, but the three dots at the top of the display keep blinking. She’s not done. 

She’s typing more. 

**_I_ ** **can multitask, thank you very much.**

_ So can I. _

Kara tells herself she’s got nothing to prove, but her free hand is already tugging down her waistband, and she rolls her chair away from the desk, reclining back as far as it allows. 

_ Have you been? Touching yourself?  _ Her cock is so slick with pre-cum she doesn’t even need to reach for the bottle of lube on her nightstand. That’s for the best; her legs feel weak already, and at the first pass of her hand a jolt of electricity runs her through, rendering her incapable of walking even if she wanted to. 

**Oh yes.** It’s easy for Kara to picture Lena on the bed, face down maybe, to better ride her own fingers. Or some alpha-scented dildo. The last image is nice and irks her at the same time. It turns her on to imagine how Lena’s swollen pussy may be splitting open for the silicone, clenching down around it with each thrust, but she detests the idea the omega is taking something other than her cock. 

_ Show me.  _ Somewhere along the exchange Kara’s alpha took control, sinking all of her reservations with an efficiency that leaves her reeling. Toeing the fine line that divides arousal and self-doubt, fearing she may have crossed a boundary. 

(they  _ really  _ should have a talk about those, at some point.) 

It takes an exceedingly long ten minutes for Lena to get back to her — ten minutes during which Kara is afforded the luxury of contemplating all the choices that brought her to this crossroad. 

On the one hand, Lena could call her a perv and block her number (statistically unlikely, but something to consider), while on the other she could —

Her phone goes off, showing there’s an image attachment waiting for her in the notifications bar. 

When it loads, Kara’s presented with a photo of Lena’s cunt, three fingers poised at the opening. 

(she transcends, she thinks. All of her chakras open at once or something.)

Puffy and swollen from the attention the omega’s been paying it, the delicate labia open like the petals of a rose. A decadent, surely delectable sight that fills her mouth with drool. And it  _ glistens  _ with slick, clear ropes of it draping Lena’s fingers. 

**Sorry** , the accompanying message says,  **took me a few minutes to get the right angle.**

But Kara can’t really comprehend the words she’s reading. The letters writhe on the screen like snakes, and the phone trembles in her hold, her other hand pumping up and down around her shaft faster and faster. 

Kara’s filled to bursting with the need to hear how Lena sounds when she’s fucking herself thinking of her. 

So, she calls her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Lena have phone sex.
> 
> Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the long absence - this was the last story my beta worked on with me before passing away at the end of last year - and it took me some time to be able to get back on the saddle. 
> 
> I still have their notes on the google document too - it hurts but it's also a comfort.
> 
> Anyway, I hope the wait was worth it and that people are still interested.
> 
> \- Dren

Kara presses the call button next to Lena’s number before her brain has any chance to catch up with her cock. It wouldn’t matter anyway. All she can think about is Lena, moaning pretty in her ear while she pumps her own fingers in and out of herself. Maybe telling Kara she wishes it was her inside. 

Her thoughts freeze, then fall into a loop. She can’t help but wonder how it’d feel to have Lena’s walls flutter around her, clench and will her deeper. 

It’s a shameful whimper, what takes shape in the back of her throat, and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to stifle it. 

She can’t believe she’s doing this (her life has turned into a long series of can’t believes) and it shouldn’t scare her as much as it does, accounting for where Lena’s hands have already been, but— 

The phone is ringing, once, twice, and then—

Then—

Lena picks up.

She picks up, but at her end of the line there’s only silence. 

(Wait. Not quite.)

It takes a few seconds for the noises to register, but when they do Kara risks toppling from the chair. The whimpers are breathy, muted, and Kara’s right there in bed with her. 

It’s easy to imagine Lena lying on her stomach, biting into her pillow. Riding those three fingers she’s shown Kara in that picture. Fast and deep and hard, eyes squeezed shut as she pictures herself taking Kara’s cock the same way. 

Kara’s fst glides up and down in time with the sounds Lena’s making, and for a beat they are lost in the tiny whines escaping the other. 

“Kara.” Lena’s voice comes through eventually, Kara’s name punctuated by a gasp. “Fuck I wish—” 

“I wish you were touching me again,” Kara rasps out, and under the urgent glide of her fingers, her shaft strains in agreement, pre-cum beading the gland. “Or that I was touching you.” 

_Yeah_. Lena can’t see her (duh!) but Kara nods to herself anyway. That’s even better. 

She’s dying to do Lena, _ahem_ do for Lena what Lena did for her, and although she’s hella nervous about her skill level, Kara’s willing to try. To learn. 

She’s never touched someone that way before. Mike hadn’t been hard to figure out — he never lasted long enough for Kara to consider trying something new, plus they shared the same anatomy down _there_ — but she’s done her research. 

Most alpha-catering porn sites paint a demeaning picture. An omega only wants your cock, and wants it hard, and really, they want you to have your way no matter what. Alphas of Reddit is even worse; Kara’s read so many _if they say no it means yes_ comments she’s risked giving herself brain-rot. 

Omega run websites is where it’s at. She’s not worked up the nerve to make a profile and ask questions yet — they have specific message boards open to alphas just for that — but what she’s been reading has been… _revelatory_. 

“I’ve been thinking about you touching me all day.” Lena says in a rush, and the way her voice wavers at the end tells Kara that maybe she didn’t mean to clue her in on that just yet. 

“That’s only fair.” She licks her lips, and blows out a shuddering breath. “I’ve been thinking about you all day too.”

“Yeah?” Lena’s smiling, Kara is sure of it. “Did it get you hard in class? Thinking of me?” 

The back of Kara’s neck grows burning hot, and she has to squeeze the confession around a needy whimper. 

“I had to excuse myself to the bathroom halfway through the english lit test.” She’d been in the middle of analyzing one of Shakespeare’s sonnets when it happened, her dick pushing up against the seam of her pants all of a sudden. 

Kara can’t say how she made it to the alpha bathroom without spilling her load, but remembers her backstabbing, unhelpful mind whispering _then you live about her waist, or in the middle of her favors?_ over and over in her ears as she worked herself undone into a wad of toilet paper.

(she doesn’t know about Hamlet, but she’d _die_ in the middle of Lena’s favors.

gladly.)

It still surprises her, how reactive she is now after Lena— after she— 

There’s a, well the best analogy Kara can think of to describe how she feels, it’s that she’s been living with an explosive device crammed in her pants for years and now that she’s finally found someone to, _uhm_ , help defuse the situation, the bomb is going off anyway.

All the fucking time. 

Kara is drunk on the exhilaration of it all ---her body working properly for once — but the aftertaste is cloying sweet Sprite left too long into the sun. The concentrated sugar can't mask the metallic flavour of her fear.

It's new, and unknown, and as embarrassing as the incident during her test proves, but most of all she worries Lena will start to think she's just gross. A knot-brain. Not someone _good_ different, worth spending her time with.

Two days of being on a decreasing blockers regimen and she’s reduced to this. 

"Kara?" Lena's voice is velvet-soft and low, but not as breathless as it was moments ago. "Are you alright?"

The other sounds — the wet ones — have stopped too. 

"I'm fine." Kara says, voice halting and eyes hot in a sweaty-eyeballs kind of way. "I— uhm. Yeah. Fine." 

“Kara.” Lena’s tone softens further, and Kara’s cheeks heat up too. Forgetting where her hand has been, she wipes it across her face, grimacing when she realizes exactly what she’s done. “Kara, you know you can talk to me, right? If this is too much…” 

“I ruined the mood, didn’t I?” Her eyes scan the room for something, anything she can focus on to push back the tears prickling at the back of her eyes. A spidery crack on the wall captures her attention, and Kara frowns at it, willing her shallows breath to slow. 

“No, you did not.” Upon hearing the words, hope flutters weakly in Kara’s chest. It’s gone in seconds, replaced by the more than familiar feeling that she is, ultimately, a ginormous fuck-up. Lena simply hasn’t seen the worst of it yet. 

“I—” She’s still half hard, despite all this, and the pleasing thrum that vibrates through her stomach at Lena’s noises of concern is shocking. 

Kara’s always thought that the protector/provider role mainstream media pins on alphas is backward bullshit — heck, she’s seen it with her own eyes how much more grounded and calm Alex is with Kelly in her life. And she’s seen Kelly be protective, fiercely so at that. Same with Lois and Clark. 

But she’d never imagined someone being this thoughtful with her when things get intimate could make her feel so safe. 

“I’m glad you feel safe with me.”

Too late, Kara realizes she’s been wondering out loud. The flush on her cheeks increases, spreading to the tips of her ears until they sting and she knows they’re bright red without looking. Even the back of her neck grows hot. 

“I mean—” But she can’t take the words back now, can she? Because they’re true. Lena makes her feel safe, and cared for. She makes her feel l— 

“It was so strange the first time I realized someone was seeing me, really _seeing_ me for who I am.” Kara gets the feeling Lena’s talking to herself as much as she’s talking to her. She also can tell that these are important words — words that shouldn’t be listened to with your dick hanging out of your pants. 

Carefully, doing her best not to make a sound, she brings the chair back into an upright position and rolls-walks herself across the bedroom, aiming for the box of wet wipes she keeps on hand for emergencies. 

Her neck is taut with tension, and she stretches it side to side as she cleans up in an attempt to ease it. Kara doesn’t mind the soreness, or the cramps of muscles held in the same position for too long. Every last particle of her is zeroed-in on Lena, and she’s — quite literally — hanging on her words. 

“When was it?” She doesn’t know why she’s whispering, and is sure the phone is too far from her for the microphone to pick her voice up, but Lena hears her anyway.

“Not too long ago in fact.” She says, laughter in her tone. “When it was time to pick a major and I said what I wanted to do, everyone around me tried to discourage me.” A note of bitterness threads through her words. “I’m sure you can imagine the objections.” 

Kara can. 

Eliza had been and still is dutifully encouraging, but Kara’s stopped complaining about the competition art school is rife with. Every time she does, she sees this look on her mother’s face — like Eliza is waiting for the day she can say _I told you so_ , and gently nudge her into a more practical career. Her mother never opposed Kara’s choice openly, but Kara can’t shake the feeling she’s being constantly judged for having made a wrong decision. 

“You know, for a time I thought they knew something I didn’t.” Kara can picture Lena as she speaks; green eyes unfocused, staring somewhere in the past. The pinched look she always has on her face, jaw rippling, mouth pressed in a thin, bloodless line when her thoughts turn unpleasant. “I remember the first week of classes, everyone staring at me. Whispering.”

Kara doesn’t doubt the other students did more than just talk. For her it was notes and dicks crudely etched on post-its stuck to her messenger bag. Or doing a group project alone, because none of the others wanted to work with her and the professor couldn’t force them to. 

Painting all omegas as pliant, fragile things is the same as saying all alphas are jerks. 

“But something happened, didn’t it?” Kara’s so entranced by Lena’s story she’s rolled herself back to her desk without noticing. A pencil is in her hands, and she’s sketching, but it isn’t idle doodles. 

It’s Lena, or what things she finds more striking about her. 

Her eyes, bottomless and focused even in charcoal. Her smile, just an upward tilt of the mouth in most cases. The dip of her throat. Lena’s hands, fingers long and elegant. Tendons standing out when they flex or she’s gripping something. Something like Kara’s — 

— the pencil pierces through the paper and shatters in her grip. Kara stares forlornly at the shards of wood and charcoal in her palm, skin itching with the desire to reach through the phone and touch Lena. Not even in a sexual way (although she’s having very sexual thoughts). Just. 

Touch her. 

“Yeah. Something happened.” Lena agrees, after a short pause. “Our math professor wanted to test what we retained from highschool to gauge the class’s level. I was the only one to finish within the time limit. And when he gave me my test back, the look in his eyes. He wasn’t just looking at me. He was _seeing_. For the first time in my life he made me feel that I am more than, and not less —” 

“I feel seen with you.” Kara blurts out, pulling at her fingers nervously. “It’s like you don’t… you don’t expect me to…” She flounders for an explanation, hand drifting back and forth in the air as if to conjure what she means to say. “I can just be _me_ , with you and I guess that’s okay?”

To this day, Kara doesn’t have any friends that are art majors. Nia is an english lit student, Winn is taking journalism and, despite loving photography, James isn’t pursuing that as his career. And sure, they appreciate her for who she is too, but she’s never felt confident in sharing her art with them. She misses it. Someone she could talk about the use of light, and the importance of perspective with. 

Kara thinks Lena would listen to her babble about art the way _she_ listens when the omega goes off about the latest technological innovations. Kara doesn’t always understand, but to her it doesn’t matter. She’d listen to Lena talk about the weather, honestly. 

(because Lena’s is the hand that lights the stars in Kara’s sky, let’s face it.)

Silence befalls them, then. Kara licks her lips and frets she’s said too much, heart stuttering inside her chest. Lena’s quiet too, but it somehow feels different. Kara’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion while she puzzles over it, and then it dawns on her — Lena’s mulling over what she told her. Hers is the silence of someone caught in the clockwork of their own thought processes, not that born from awkwardness. 

“Are you upset we didn’t… we haven’t…” Kara gestures to her crotch, then mentally kicks herself for it. How can Lena figure out what she’s asking? It’s just… Kara doesn’t think she can get back into the headspace enough to get herself hard again. 

Her dick has officially entered rest mode. 

“No.” Lena sighs, but it's content. "I am happy we talked instead. I—" Kara hears her take a big breath, "I liked what you said about me."

Lena sounds shaky, a blush trapped in her voice.

It's fair, Kara thinks, since she's blushing too.

Lena clears her throat.

“Do you think…” The rustle of shifting blankets blots out her voice for a moment. “Is it weird that I’d like us to stay on the call until we fall asleep?” 

The mention of sleep prompts Kara to check the time. It’s late — almost midnight, really — and they should be asleep already. The midterms aren’t nearly done yet. 

“It’s not weird.” She paws at the mess on her desk, searching for her bluetooth headphones. “I’d like that as well.” 

“Okay.” Lena says, relieved. “Let’s get ready for bed then.” 

There’s a mariachi band in Kara’s chest all of a sudden. 

“Kara?” 

“Yeah.” She stands on shaky legs, and stumbles to the bed phone in hand. Letting herself fall on it, she grabs for the duvet until her heart eventually slows down to a less life-threatening rhythm. 

“Hey, Kara?” 

“Mmm?” She’s worn out. More than she’d thought. Now that her body is in a horizontal position her eyes are heavy and droopy. The bed is cold to begin with, and exhausted shivers make Kara want to curl up into a ball, but under the duvet warmth gathers quickly. And then there’s Lena, speaking so softly in her ear. 

“I’m right here. I just… I wanted you to know that. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Lena must be meaning that in a broader sense, not just the here and now of almost-sleep. But Kara’s mind is too tired to make full sense of her words, to read the subtext or whatever. She’s already navigating the rugged coasts of sleep, half-formed dreams flickering across her eyelids. 

“‘m here too.” She mumbles, nuzzling the phone like she’s nosing into Lena’s hair instead. “Got you. ‘s all good.” 

They drift off together — inhale, exhale — hearts synching.

And the only thing they hear is one another, even though they aren’t saying a word. 

***

Kara wakes with a sense that something’s different.

It’s the silence, pervasive and woolen like a blanket stuffed inside her ears. A glimpse out the window tells her why — it snowed overnight, so much that several inches are covering her windowsill, and she will have to fight the half frozen latch to push open the window. 

Draping the duvet around her shoulders to ward off the chill, she leaves her warm nest and drags herself out of bed, shuffling to the window for a better look.

It’s snowing still. Fat flakes that swirl down to the ground as sleepy as she feels. It’s difficult to say how late it is, with light being refracted by the snow. Time seems meaningless anyhow, the snowstorm suspending the world outside in its magic. Everything is foreing, crystallized into white stasis. Two birds are hopping around a nearby house’s lawn in search of food, tiny flecks of punctuation on the vast, wintry page. 

The sun, a mere smudge behind cloud cover, is low on the horizon, which means it’s not as late as Kara initially feared, but she must have tossed in her sleep, because her phone is nowhere to be seen. She’ll have to mine for it. 

She’s still staring outside, nose smashed to the cold glass of the window when the ping of a message coming through shatters the quiet. Kara launches across the room, thinking it’s Lena. 

It’s not. It’s college, informing her via text that midterms are suspended for the day due to the weather. 

Kara decides there and then that it’d be nice to see whether the others want to come over for brunch and take a little breather. She honestly can't stomach the idea of another day spent poring over books. Already it feels that the notions she crammed her skull full of are trickling through her grasp like grains of sand. Working herself into a panic attack seems counterproductive.

The thought’s barely finished forming in her head that her phone chimes again. It’s Winn, proposing the same thing. They hash out a plan between them, and have messages going to the rest of the gang in a flash. 

Even though she’s the one living furthest away, Kara shoots one Lena’s way too. She tells herself she can always go get the omega if Lena can’t make it on her own. Somehow. 

Alex is still asleep, and while part of Kara is tempted to shake her sister awake to soak in the changed landscape — it’s not that they don’t get snow every year, but the first snowfall just _hits_ differently — she ultimately figures she’d rather deal with Alex’s grumpy ass with home cooked breakfast on the table between them. 

There may be a streak of selfishness motivating her as well. The first snow of the year truly is _special_ , but as she stands on the dining room’s small balcony in her socks, nursing the first cup of coffee of the day, Kara admits that sharing the view with Lena would make the view ten times better. 

She can almost hear the snow falling, and it's a curious, otherworldly sound. Whispers coming down from far above, or needles of glass clinking together softly.

After the cold has had time to flush her cheeks crimson and numb her feet, Kara rules she’s had enough of staring at the mountains, tinted blue as they are with distance, and heads back inside for a quick shower and clothes that aren’t creased. 

They have enough food in the fridge to whip up a decent meal. Pancakes, bacon and hash browns won’t be a problem. Kara’s half-done mixing the batter when Winn texts her again, letting her know he, James and Nia are on the way with croissants and freshly baked bagels from Noonan’s. By the time Alex stumbles into the kitchen, sporting the most glorious bed head Kara’s ever seen, she’s put the batter in the fridge and is thawing the two packs of sausages she found at the bottom of the freezer. 

“We’re having brunch.” She explains when Alex raises an eyebrow. “The others are coming over.” 

“Cool, I’ll go grab Kels.” Alex squeezes her into a tight hug before heading off to change out of her pajamas. “Try not to burn the house down while I’m gone?” 

“Jerk,” Kara pauses knife in hand, and rolls her eyes. “No Noonan’s croissants for you.” 

“Hey!” Alex whirls around, hand on her heart. “That hurt!” 

“Not as much as your lack of confidence in my culinary skills.” 

“There are precedents, Kara. I have cause for concern.”

Kara spears a sausage through and grins. “In that case, I’ll make sure to set fire to your bedroom first.” 

***

The others start to trickle in about an hour later. Sam is the first one to arrive, a voluminous red scarf wrapped around her head. 

“I think I need to be defrosted.” She complains, her shoulders unclenching only when she’s made it into the kitchen. It’s sweltering with all the cooking being done, and Kara’s down to her shortsleeves, but Sam looks like she would love nothing better than to dive into the oven. 

“I made cocoa.” Kara pours her a full mug. “It should quicken the process.” 

“Thanks.” Sam takes a grateful sip and sighs, plopping down on an empty chair. “Can I help with anything?” 

“I think I have it under control.” Kara peers into one of the pots piping away on the stove, giving the contents a stir. “But Alex will be glad you’re supervising.” 

“Is she still holding last year’s Thanksgiving charred-broiled turkey against you?” 

Joining Sam at the table, Kara groans. 

“I don’t think she’ll ever stop.” 

They had to put in a last minute Domino’s order to save dinner. 

Before Sam can dredge up more painful burnt-food related memories the doorbell rings, Nia, Winn and James spilling into the apartment. 

With all of them here, crowding around the table, and Kelly on the way, only Lena’s missing. Kara had tried not to check her phone every five minutes, but the radio silence is strange. Maybe Lena is just sleeping in, tired from the night before, but even the most likely explanation doesn’t help calm Kara down. 

“You okay?” 

Nia has enlisted James to help set up the table, and Winn is setting out the baked goods they bought at Noonan’s. There’s three full trays, and Kara wonders distractedly whether they just razed the whole place. 

“Kara, you alright?” 

Sam grabs both of her arms and tugs her out of the kitchen's controlled chaos and into the living room. It’s a few degrees colder here, and Kara’s bare arms break out with goosebumps. 

“I’m okay.” Kara aims for deflection, but Sam isn’t so easily fooled. Her grip on Kara’s forearms tightens, and she holds her in place, looking her over with eyes full of concern. “Sam, I said I’m—”

“Bullshit.” Sam glares. “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to talk about it, but don’t give me that crap. Not when you have the face.” 

“What face?”

“You know, _the_ face.” The glare intensifies and, suddenly, Kara isn’t that cold anymore. “The face you make when you’re upset and you’re trying your best to hide it.” 

Her face is fine. She’s positive she’s not making whatever face Sam’s talking about. As if to contradict her, Kara’s jaw tightens, and Sam’s eyebrows quirk upward, daring her to deny the truth. 

Kara is stubborn enough to do just that.

“I’m not—! I don’t—!” Sam’s nails dig into her skin, and Kara doesn’t know if it’s the pressure helping her realize it, but she does need to tell someone about it, and Sam’s always been good at keeping secrets. “Okay.” She deflates, and Sam’s posture instantly softens. “I texted Lena asking her if she wanted to come over too and she hasn’t gotten back to me. It’s okay if she’s busy or doesn’t want to, y’know?” She hangs her head as she speaks, voice quivering. “But it’s so unlike her to not reply at all.” 

It must be the stupid blockers. Kara’s mood has been on a rollercoaster since she started decreasing the dosage. Her doctor warned her it could happen, but she didn’t think it’d be this bad. With her heart in her teeth one moment, and pounding a jig between her legs the next. 

“Oh, honey, I’m sure she’s fine.” Before Kara can register what’s happening, Sam’s enveloped her in a rib-bruising hug, her dark eyes gentle. “Maybe her phone ran out of battery or something.” That… That actually makes sense, considering they left their call running overnight, and Kara breathes a little easier.

They are just disentangling when the front door is pushed open, Alex and Kelly coming through with an armload of grocery bags each. 

“We’re here!” Alex sets the bags down out of the way, stepping aside with a flourish. “And look _who_ we found!” 

Lena’s standing in the doorway saying nothing, eyes trained on her and Sam. 

On Sam’s arms, which are still loosely wrapped around Kara. 

Crap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looking for things to do as we slip into lockdown 6 you're fast but not fast enough? Want more smut? 
> 
> Follow the link [on Tumblr](https://kendrene.tumblr.com/) for more gay shenanigans!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to adverse weather conditions Lena has to spend the night at Kara's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back with these two idiots! I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> \- Dren

Kara can explain.

She could explain if she could be alone with Lena for five minutes. Which isn’t gonna happen anytime soon, that much is clear to her within moments. Lena doesn’t avoid her, exactly, but whenever Kara thinks she’s finally spotted an opening, the omega happens to  _ drift _ to one of the others. 

It’s all so natural — Kelly needs help cutting up the vegetables, Alex is putting too much wine in the carafe of orange juice — that Kara starts to think she’s being paranoid. Maybe it was a regular look. Maybe Lena’s eyes hadn’t lingered on her and Sam at all and it’s her nerves making her see things that aren’t there. 

But if the jury’s still out on the way Lena’s acting, Kara’s nose is not lying. She wouldn’t describe Lena’s scent as cold, but there’s definitely  _ something _ threading through it. A distance, for lack of a better term, and when Kara lets an exploratory whiff of her own pheromones float in Lena’s general direction — no more than a pinch, since she’s never really been that great at being subtle — the gulf between them only seems to grow. 

Brunch is supposed to be an easy, simple thing, but with everyone having brought something, it seems that they’ll have enough leftovers to get through the entire winter. Plus, enough for everyone to take leftovers home.

There’s the stacks of pancakes Kara made the batter for, and a tray piled high with bacon and sausages. All the baked goods her friends bought from Noonan’s and an enormous bowl of salad, courtesy of Lena. 

Kara doesn’t enjoy any of it. She tries, and fills her plate the way she normally would to avoid being questioned — the general consensus is that Kara not eating means something is about to go, or already is horribly wrong — but everything she puts inside her mouth tastes of worry. 

Sam seems to be the only one picking up on her mood. Her eyes continuously flit between her and Lena, and she opens her mouth, on the verge of saying something a number of times. Kara is so desperate to catch her attention from across the table — somehow sure that Sam saying anything at all is only gonna make things worse — that she spills hot coffee on her crotch. 

And —  _ ouch _ . 

“Kara are you—” Alex is halfway to her before Kara waves her back to her seat. 

“Fine. I’m fine. I’ve got it.” She risks a glance to her lap and flinches. Looks like she’s peed herself. “I’m just gonna go—” Gesturing vaguely toward the bathroom, Kara shuffles out of her chair. It’s awkward, and she feels herself shrink under the combined stares of all her friends. Especially because she has to pluck at the front of her pants as she retreats down the hall to avoid burning herself further. 

Hopefully, there’s no permanent damage. 

One brief pit-stop by her closet later, Kara’s locked herself inside the bathroom, precariously perched on the edge of the bathtub to peel her pants and boxers off. There doesn’t seem to be any lasting injury aside from her skin being a bit red, but she doesn’t rejoin the others right away.

Instead she slides down to the cold tiles by the door, back pressed against the wood, and does all she can to fight off the ache that thuds inside her heart whenever she remembers how cold Lena’s eyes turned as she saw her and Sam stand close to one another. 

“Hey, Kara, are you still in there?” 

She’s so busy wallowing in self-loathing, she’s completely missed the sound of approaching footsteps. Lena’s delicate scent, honey and cloves, punches the air just as her voice reaches Kara’s ears, and her first instinct is to press a hand to the door’s surface. Her fingers burn to unlock it, to let Lena inside, but Kara is too afraid of what she’ll find painted on her face to take the chance. 

“Yeah, ‘m here.” 

The bathroom door never fit well. It’s warped and chipped in places from being slammed by the previous tenants one too many times, and has been near the top of the long list of repairs Alex means to ask their landlord. So the crack at the bottom is quite wide, and light spills in from the hallway. 

Kara can see Lena’s shadow block it out for a moment, and then her hand appears, held flat to the floorboards. The door quivers at her back, and Kara guesses from the creak the parquet makes and how close Lena’s voice is to her ear now, that the omega has plopped herself right outside, mimicking her posture. 

“Are you hurt?” 

“N— no.” Unless one counts her crumpled heart. “I’m okay. I had to change, though.” 

Kara’s eyes track what she can glimpse of Lena’s hand, her slender fingers tracing idle patterns along the floorboards’ grain, and she wishes— she wishes she could stick her own hand under the door and grasp Lena’s fretting fingers into hers. 

“Are you sure?” Lena hand stops, and a soft  _ thud  _ comes from her side of the door. As if she’s tilted her head back, butting the wood ever so gently. “You could have Alex—” 

Alex is a good way through her internship at the local hospital, but the last thing Kara needs to ruin an already awful day is to have her sister take a look at her privates. 

“Thanks, I’m good.” She softly raps her knuckles against the door to lessen the abruptness of her tone, and gets a light tap in return. “Listen, Lena. About earlier…” 

“You don’t have to say anything, Kara. I understand.” Kara shakes her head, her stomach dropping through the floor and to the apartment below theirs. She’s absolutely, completely positive that Lena understood the  _ wrong  _ thing. 

“No!” She’s being far too vehement, and it causes Lena to shift. Her discomfort seeps inside the bathroom from the gap under the door, and Kara wants to die. 

“I mean… with Sam.” She hates to sound so hesitant, and hates that she can’t completely reel in her irritation even more. Kara doesn’t want to be like the alpha jocks that made her life miserable in highschool. Always growling, always lashing out. She’s mad at herself, not at Lena, but her thoughts are eels that wiggle away from her — she can’t still them long enough to put them into words. “There’s not— she isn’t— I—” Kara doesn’t need to be a genius to know Lena’s pulled back from the door, and the more she stammers through what feel like flimsy excuses, the more quiet the hallway outside becomes.

“Lena?” She turns and kneels by the door, forehead resting against it. “Are you—” 

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Kara.” Lena cuts her off. “We’re friends, I’m just helping you out. That’s what friends are for.” 

Kara wants to argue that none of her other friends would or  _ have  _ offered to have sex with her, but bites the inside of her cheek instead. Her mind gets tangled in  _ we’re friends  _ which her fears quickly turn into  _ we’ll only be just friends  _ and by the time Kara rips free of the anxiety, Lena is long gone. 

But Kara thinks Lena’s voice trembled on the word friend — a slight, easily missable waver — and she clings to that one detail as if her life depends on it. 

(because it does.)

***

She doesn’t feel like going back to the others. The apartment is too crowded, too small with all of them there. Noisy and full of laughter. Kara needs a bit of space, a moment of loneliness. Kara and her thoughts and the snow floating down from above. 

She’s torturing herself over the words Lena said, pulling them apart one by one like an anatomopathologist. They are scratch-off lotto tickets, and if she could pick the right one — Kara knows, she  _ knows  _ she’s one stroke of luck away from the truth. 

Going back to the kitchen also means instigating something bigger, and her temper is one thread away from snapping as it is. She feels stupid, and upset, and volatile. It’ll be easy to take it out on Alex, who’s going to make some joke about her wetting her pants. She's predictable that way, her sister.

And that, potentially, might make Kara feel better in the moment, but worse in the long run. 

Kara just. She doesn’t care to sound corny or cliche when she tells herself that all she wants is to love Lena without fear of being rejected. Walk up to her and tell her that, hey, the things they’ve been doing? Kara likes them, but what she’d love is to have silly dates in the park where they feed toast to the ducks by the pond, and maybe get ten scoops of icecream after. She wants to share how her brain  _ shuts off _ whenever Lena does anything cute — like exist — and how it always takes her a hot minute to reboot. Figure out how to function when her body goes; heart full, head empty. 

(Cock hard)

It’s not even physical. It’s not only hard-ons and lust.  _ Pfft _ . That’d be easier to handle. 

She wants to communicate somehow that they might have started there, at friends with benefits, but that’s not necessarily where it has to end. What stops her is that it could go a number of different ways. The season finale where she loses everything features heavily in her mind. 

She’s not talking about losing her one chance at love — Kara thinks she can live with that, provided she has a couple hundred gallons of rocky road on hand — but friendship.

Lena. 

Life without Lena would be — Kara shudders.

But love is a game of risk and reward. No pain, no gain according to Jane Fonda. It works a bit like poker — you can try and calculate the odds, but there’s always that pesky human factor. 

Kara sneaks into the living room and grabs her jacket by the door, shoulders slumping in dejection. She’s simply tired. Second guessing where she stands in someone’s heart is pretty hard work. Feels that it's all she's ever done in life.

Outside it’s colder than Kara remembers from the morning, the light unraveling behind the clouds. The street lamps blink on, earlier than usual, as Kara crosses over to the small park across from their apartment complex, and suddenly the sky is bathed in orange from below. She frowns up until snowflakes needle her eyes, forcing her gaze back down. Ominous, but it suits her mood. 

With schools cancelled for the day, Kara expects the park to overflow with people, but aside from a few unhappy souls walking their dogs, the place is empty. It’s okay, she tells herself. This is what she wanted. To carve a moment of solitude and reorder her thoughts.

Winter bites at the parts of her she didn’t bother covering; her ears, the tip of her nose, her ungloved hands. That’s okay too. She’s okay; a few more calming breaths, lungs aching with the cold, and she’ll be ready to go back inside, her fears concealed beneath a practiced smile. 

But she’s not  _ fine _ , that’s the problem, and she has not been in a while. The difference between being okay and being fine, between jumping and falling, swimming and sinking — these are things Kara had no problem learning early on, but lately it’s like feet that aren’t hers scuffed the thin line in the sand. She can’t find it anymore. 

Her thoughts become high-pitched with the wail of chalk dragged screeching over a blackboard, zipping by too fast. And, in turn, despite the absence of color she’s surrounded herself with, they make the world garish. Kara shuts her eyes against the glare of the snow, head spinning, knowing she’s one shallow breath away from ripping at the seams. 

And then, just when it feels she will fall this time — no safety net, no cushion to the bone crush — a snowball hits her squarely in the chest.  _ Hard _ .

“ _ Oof _ .” 

The sound is 99% surprise, 1% outrage, but as another compact ball of ice whizzes past — this time missing her head by about three inches — the percentages change quickly.

She cracks open one eye, just in time to see a third snowy projectile sail in her direction. No time to duck Alex’s deadly aim, so Kara folds into herself instead, tucks her head behind crossed arms and absorbs the next hit. The snowball comes apart on impact, dissolving into powdery white crystals. Some sneak their way between the collar of her jacket and her neck, and Kara yelps at the cool kiss of frozen water on bare skin, floundering for cover before her sister can land another hit. 

“You’re surrounded!” Alex cries out dramatically, like she’s starring in a low budget action movie. “We’re gonna flush you out!” 

It’s true — Kara discovers peeking around the tree she’s found shelter behind — they’re coming at her from all sides. James and Winn advance on her right, Alex and Kelly as a unit in front. Nia and Sam slightly to the left. A loose semi-circle closing inevitably around her, tightening into a noose — only the lynchpin is missing. 

Realizing Lena doesn’t seem to be with them has Kara’s heart taking an uncomfortable dive, but there’s no time to dally. Another snowball hits her — and this time she’s eating half of it before her mouth snaps shut. Crap. 

It’s all or nothing, and Kara decides to make a break for it. Instead of wasting time returning snowballs, she sprints for the gap Nia and Sam haven’t managed to bridge, barely squeezing by. Past them, and deeper into the park, where the thicker trees, although bare, offer some level of protection. 

The game of cat and mouse ends when something warm and soft collides with her back, bearing her face-first into a snowdrift. 

“ _ Oof _ .” Again. 

“That’s not fair!” Kara exclaims. At least that’s what comes out of her mouth. She’s  _ positive  _ she thinks the words, at the very least, but a mouth full of snow is inimical to words. To breathing too, apparently, or so her lungs try to remind her. 

“Everything’s fair in love and war.” Kara’s thought process freezes, just like the rest of her. Surely she misunderstood. Surely — She spits a clump of snow out of her mouth, but before she can try to push up on hands and knees she’s flipped onto her back, Lena throwing a leg over her middle.

Kara blinks, and when she pulls in a hard breath the world tilts. She can’t believe this is happening to her, can’t wrap her mind around it.  _ Lena is on top of her  _ — in a way she hasn’t ever been before — warm despite the several thick layers of winter clothing separating them. Kara’s so shocked by the reality of it, the solid weight of Lena’s body against her own, the slight sway of her hips, how her hair spills forward, and her scent spills in Kara’s lungs

“Hey.” There’s something apologetic in the omega’s expression, tender in her eyes. She pulls a glove off with her teeth and cups a hand around the side of Kara’s face. “Kara, I—” 

She doesn’t get to say anything else. Another snowball catches her shoulder, and she pitches to the side with a gasp of furious outrage that — really, someone gives the woman an Oscar already. 

“I am betrayed.” Lena whispers, pointing a trembling finger to their left where the rest of their friends have gathered with an alarming quantity of snowballs ready to be thrown. “I can’t believe they did me dirty like that.” 

“I know right?” Kara doesn’t know why or how it happened, but they’re  _ fine  _ again, and she’s not gonna look a horse gift in the mouth. “Assholes.” 

Lena flops down next to her with a small grunt and they dissolve into giggles together. 

***

It’s an hour or so later when, ears and noses red with the cold, they make a beeline back to the apartment. The weather is getting worse, and unless the others leave for home now they risk getting stuck at Alex’s place. It wouldn’t be a problem — but they don’t have room for everybody. 

“Lena, why don’t you sleep here?” Alex says after everyone but Kelly left, completely missing the panicked stare Kara throws her to try and get her attention in the background. “There’s no way for you to make it back to your place in  _ that _ .” She jerks a thumb to the living room window. 

They’ve pulled the curtains back to watch the snow, and it’s falling so copiously now that the theater of their afternoon antics is barely visible. Alex is right; no way they can let Lena try and slog home in that mess.

Kara’s protectiveness flares a bit at the idea.

“--- don’t want to impose.” Lena is saying, when she tunes back into the conversation. “Really, Alex. I think if I’m careful—”

“Nonsense.” Alex cuts off gently but firm. “You can sleep in Kara’s bedroom. Right, Kara? Kara?” Kara's head snaps up and she stares at Alex for a long second. Her sister’s lips are moving, but the unexpected rush of blood in Kara’s ears is too loud for her to make out the words. 

“Kara?” Kelly touches her arm, and she nearly topples from her perch on the couch’s armrest. “Alex is asking if Lena can sleep in your room.” 

Oh. Uhm. Right.

“Yeah.” Is her face hot? Kelly’s staring like Kara’s got dirt on her cheeks, but when she scrubs at her skin with her sleeve it comes back clean. “I mean, sure!” What is she doing? Lena is going to sleep in her bed,  _ ohmygod _ . “I can, uhm, take the couch. Yeah.” Kara nods to herself. This is more familiar territory. Eliza always made sure she knew to be polite to guests. “I’ll sleep on the couch and you can take the bed, Lena.” She manages to direct at the interested party.

“Nonsense.” Lena is wearing an expression that spells stubborn in bold lettering, a face Kara knows better than to try and go up against. She does anyway, the hazard of spending the night together —  _ with Lena _ — in her bed far higher in the scale of Kara’s priorities than self-preservation. The  _ entire  _ night, with Lena pressed into her. Kara swallows against a suddenly dry throat. 

“I can’t ask you to sleep on the couch,” Lena insists with a firm gaze. Kara has no common sense or she’d drop this, and just go along with what Lena wants. She  _ wants  _ to go along with what Lena wants. She wants  _ anything  _ Lena wants, honestly. “I’ll be fine, really.” 

Inside her head, her adoptive mother scolds her.

“No, I can take the couch. For real.” Something pointy, Kelly’s elbow perhaps, digs into Kara’s side, but she ignores it. If Lena’s eyes weren’t on her, she’d swat Kelly’s arm away. 

“Kara, I said—” 

“Neither of you is sleeping on the couch.” Now hold on a second, Kelly can’t just— She can’t— “I need it for…” she pauses, gaze dropping heavy to Alex’s lips, and Kara doesn’t want her to say anything else. She loves Kelly, and is more than a little jealous of what she and Alex have, but she doesn’t like,  _ need  _ the visuals. “...reasons.” Kelly finishes, blessedly PG-13. 

“I guess we can share.” Kara says after a long beat of silence, shooting what she hopes is a murderous enough look at her sister’s girlfriend. All she gets back is a quirk of the brow, and Alex’s noises of confusion aren’t remotely sufficient when it comes to soothing her wounded pride. “C'mon, I’ll show you around.” 

Her annoyance melts away the moment Lena’s hand slips into her own.

“So, uhm. This is it, I guess?” 

They’ve already stepped inside her bedroom when Kara remembers she’d fallen asleep the night before without tidying up. It’s not as messy as if a hurricane swept through it, but she still gets hot with nerves under the collar. When Lena looks away, she hurriedly kicks a couple dirty socks under the bed, aware she’ll see them again in a few months, when the monster living there deigns to cough them up. 

“I know it’s not much,” Kara mumbles, and trails after Lena, hands shoved deep in her front pockets in an attempt to not fidget. It never bothered her that the Luthors are old money, and Lena never bragged or made people feel inadequate because of it. It’s just. Kara’d never noticed how cramped her room actually is. And as her gaze goes to the bed, she has to gulp down an unhappy sound. The twin is going to be an embarrassingly tight fit for two grown women. 

The words  _ tight  _ and  _ fit _ ricochet against the sides of her skull, and Kara has to hide the pink flush of her cheeks in the crook of her elbow. The fake coughs she lets out as cover don’t sound very convincing. 

Fortunately, Lena’s attention is catalyzed by something else. Kara’s desk, specifically, covered in her drawings. Fuck, she forgot about those. 

“Uh, yeah. About that.” Inwardly Kara cringes. She’s saying  _ uh  _ a lot. 

“Kara, these are all so beautiful!” Lena reaches out, and Kara gets to watch her in slow-motion as she unhearths one of the drawings at the bottom of the pile. “They’re — oh, my god — this is— you—” It’s a drawing Kara did of her, but thankfully a safe for work one. 

A stolen moment; Lena in the library, unaware she is the subject of Kara’s devotion. Studying, her eyes glued to the spread of books in front of her, bottom lip caught between her teeth in thought. It’s one of the few watercolors Kara’s ever done, but she deemed that only that technique could capture the softness of the afternoon, casting Lena in a pool of molten gold. 

Kara’d rather close her eyes and beg the floor to swallow her. Maybe join the dirty socks and the imaginary monster under her bed. But something she’s never witnessed before is happening to Lena’s face. She holds the drawing like it’s coals burning her, but also, she can’t let go, and her mouth works for nothing. Just opening and closing. She’s flustered, and so fucking cute without trying to be. 

She wishes she had the guts to stride over to her, and say that there’s other drawings if Lena wants to see them, So many of them, actually; Kara spends all of her time either thinking of Lena or  _ trying not to think about her _ too hard. 

Instead she just stands there, slouching a little, and lets her eyes grow deer-in-the-headlights wide, dumb as a sack of extremely stupid hammers and just as dull. 

“You can, uhm.” dammit, “keep it? If you want?” Why is everything coming out of her mouth sounding like a question? 

“Really?” Lena’s clutching her likeness to her chest already, hands cradling it so carefully she might as well be handling parchment twenty times as old. There’s a fierceness lighting up her eyes, a spark of possessiveness — Kara doesn’t think she’d get the drawing back even if she wanted it. 

But she doesn’t. 

Right now, Kara’s struggling with her breathing, her mind stuck on the way Lena’s holding her gift. Like it’s something too precious to be allowed to slip away from her, even for a second. 

Kara can’t help but feel that what’s in Lena’s hands is not a simple piece of paper, but a part of  _ her _ . 

“Really.” She returns, as naturally as she can manage. “i’m going to find you something more comfortable to wear, okay?” She needs something to do with her hands, to tether herself to the mortal realm before her soul decides to pack up and transcend. 

“Okay.” Lena nudges the pile of drawings with a finger. “Can I look through these?” Her green eyes glitter with poorly concealed eagerness, and Kara can’t say no.

“Sure.” She turns toward the closet, sticking her head inside. Maybe if she forces it in far enough, Lena won’t hear the scream she feels pushing at the back of her throat. Hopefully she threw the most incriminating sketches inside one of her drawers. And if not, well, Kara’s well acquainted with death by embarrassment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bored in lockdown? [join me on Tumblr](https://kendrene.tumblr.com/) for more stories, more smut and gay nonsense!

**Author's Note:**

> [join me on Tumblr](https://kendrene.tumblr.com/) for more gay nonsense!


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